


Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

by SphericallyAdept



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Adventures, Hisoka is a dick, M/M, Masturbation, Slow Burn, friendship is important, probably more porn later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SphericallyAdept/pseuds/SphericallyAdept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hisoka promises to help Illumi find Killua. He also promises Killua that Illumi won't find him. It's all in the name of bonding time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Padokea

The first time Killua opened the door to Hisoka playing cards with Alluka on the floor, he’d nearly short circuited. Hisoka’s painted lips twisted into a manic sneer as he looked up to meet Killua’s murderous expression. At the same time, he threw down four aces making Alluka wail in protest.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here!” Killua yelled before he could censor himself. He felt his adrenaline spike as thoughts raced through his head at a million miles per second. There was no way Hisoka found him on accident; not after everything he had done to cover his trail. Zephile had been the one to transfer all his funds into an untraceable account and the appraiser had sworn that nobody would be able to track the spending. He’d also been relocating with Alluka once every two to three weeks (he’d move more often but he does still need to take jobs, especially since Alluka was dependent on him). Nobody had been able to locate him without his permission for two years, but if Hisoka could find him, it was only a matter of time before his family did as well.

 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~” Hisoka said, folding up his hand. “You’ll upset your precious sister. She’ll think you don’t like me.”

 

Alluka dropped her cards and jumped to her feet, her thick chestnut hair framing her cheerful smile. “Welcome back big brother!” she chirped as she bounded forward and threw her arms around Killua's neck.

 

Still in a state of shock, Killua wrapped one arm protectively around his sister. The nails on his other hand lengthened into claws as his survival instinct kicked in.

 

“You Zoldyck siblings are all so adorable~” Hisoka slowly rose to his feet, “But as fun fighting with you may be, I haven't the motivation and you haven't the time.”

 

Killua’s eyes narrowed at Hisoka’s words and he glanced down briefly at Alluka’s innocent expression. She didn’t appear to be hurt or traumatized which eased the knot in his stomach slightly.

 

“How did you find us?” He asked again, more composed this time.

 

Hisoka’s smile grew wider. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, if I tell you, I may not be able to find you in time next time. And believe me, you want me to find you.”

 

“Why the hell would I want you to find me?” Killua snapped. He could feel his temper flaring up now that he was fairly sure Hisoka wasn't here to hurt him or Alluka. But his anger was short lived as Hisoka’s next words made his blood run cold.

 

“Because if I don't find you first then Illumi will. In fact, he’s on his way right now.”

 

Hisoka watched with glee as the color drained from Killua's face.

 

“It's been two years. It's only natural your brother would get serious about getting you back. He loves you more than anything in the world you know.” Hisoka reached into his pocket and withdrew two airship tickets. “They say the cherry blossoms in Jappon are lovely this time of year. Alluka told me she’s never been there before.”

 

When Killua failed to move from his spot in the doorway, Hisoka waved the tickets at him as if beckoning to a dog with a treat. “You might want to hurry. Your big brother will be here in an hour. Your flight is in 20 minutes. I’m sure you can make it if you run.”

 

Killua felt the familiar tendrils of dread grip his gut as the memory of Illumi’s soulless eyes filled his mind. Was this it then? If Illumi could find them once, he would definitely be able to find them again. After two years of not having heard his oldest brother’s name, Killua had foolishly thought that maybe he was in the clear. He was an idiot for thinking his brother would give up that easily but he couldn’t help but wish. It was just like Illumi to allow him a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of happiness, before ripping his agency from him. Now that Illumi had found his trail, running would only prolong the inevitable.

 

The feeling of Alluka struggling against his grip pulled Killua out of his thoughts. He loosened his arm and she pulled away, quickly running to the other side of the room.

 

“Don't worry big brother!” She exclaimed cheerfully, “Mr. Hisoka said he’s going to help us. He's already helped me pack and clean up so we're ready to go right now. We even found that necklace I lost last week!” She smiled infectiously as she dragged two black duffel bags out from behind the bed.

 

For the first time since he walked in, Killua noticed the sparsely furnished cabin he’d rented had indeed been cleared of the paraphernalia that naturally spreads from everyday use. The mahogany desk and dresser had been wiped down, the bedding had been changed, and even the wooden floor appeared to be a bit shinier than the last time he’d seen it. He and Alluka had relocated enough times that she knew the routine for erasing all evidence of their stay. He had no doubt that she already had Nanika remove all the hair and other evidence they’d left behind. Alluka stood by the bags and waited expectantly.

 

Killua looked at Hisoka again. A lot of things still felt off. Everything about the clown’s expression seemed suspicious, but then again it was impossible to know what that perverted psychopath was thinking.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Killua asked tensely.

 

Hisoka shrugged, “Why do I do anything?”

 

Killua knew better than to press a hopeless case. He glanced again at the tickets in Hisoka’s hand, “How do I know you’re not selling us out? How do I know Illumi won’t be waiting when we get off that airship?”

 

“Why Killua, I’m hurt that you think so lowly of me~”,  Hisoka pressed his hand to his chest in mock offence, “Where would the fun be in ending this chase so quickly?”

 

Killua suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to separate Hisoka’s head from his body. The situation suddenly became a lot clearer and he did not like it at all. Heavy thumping from across the room distracted him from his bloodlust.

 

As was her nature, in the minute he’d taken to sort out his thoughts, Alluka had grown impatient and was now struggling to drag the heavy duffel bags over to the door. She gave a quiet huff and fixed Killua with a determined look, making it clear that it was two against one. Killua sighed. He had finished his job here so they didn’t have a reason to stay any longer anyway.

 

Against his better judgment the white haired boy strode into the room and quickly snatched the airship tickets from Hisoka’s outstretched hand. The sticky sweet aura around the clown made him want to gag and he backed away as fast as he could.

 

He tucked the tickets in his pocket slung the bags diagonally over his shoulders, tightening the straps so that they would not bounce against his back while he ran. He then leaned down to gently scoop Alluka into his arms. It had been a while since he’d had to run while carrying her and it definitely wouldn’t be as easy as the last time. He had grown normally in the past two years but she had hit a growth spurt and was now nearly as tall as him despite being nearly three years younger. She giggled as her body tingled from Killua’s electrified aura.

 

“One last question.” Killua said as he readied himself. A crackle of electricity rolled up his body making him glow with an inhuman incandescence. “How did my brother find me?”

 

Hisoka licked his lips as a tremor of pleasure ran down his spine. It was moments like these that made life worth living. He relished in Killua’s exasperated expression as he pulled the joker from his deck and flashed it at the young Zoldyck heir. “I told him~”

 

Killua now understood the anger that drove Gon to recklessly fight his way up Heaven’s Arena all those years ago. In that moment, he was ready to risk his life just to sink his fist into Hisoka’s smug face. Instead he ran.

 

* * *

 

The applause was still ringing in Hisoka’s ears when he received the text. As a floor master, Hisoka didn’t have to fight, but the challenger had been a Chimera Ant and he’d been curious after everything he’d heard about those. The humanoid alligator had been an interesting change of pace but hadn’t lived up to hype surrounding the mutant creatures. It seemed that the strongest ants had been taken out by the Hunter’s association. What a pity.

 

Hisoka grabbed a towel from the back room to wipe the blood off his hands before checking his phone.

 

 _13:46_ **_Illumi:_ ** _The lead you gave me was a dead end._

 

 _13:50_ **_Hisoka:_ ** _Well that’s disappointing. That lead was expensive *-_-v_

 

 _13:51_ **_Illumi:_ ** _Will you tell me where you got it now that I know it’s fake?_

 

 _13:55_ **_Hisoka:_ ** _Hmm, I bought it from a charming wandering mystic with a lovely blue crystal ball.                               Rumour had it that she can see anyone, anywhere~_

 

 _13:56_ **_Illumi: …_ **

 

 _13:57_ **_Hisoka:_ ** _What? Don’t you feel curious about the wonders of the world?_

 

Illumi’s anger was almost palpable through the phone.

 

 _14:00_ **_Illumi:_ ** _Please refrain from wasting my time in the future._

 

 _14:01_ **_Hisoka:_ ** _Don’t be so cold Illu~ I’ll buy you dinner to make it up to you? Anywhere you want_

 

That was a calculated bet. While Illumi was perfectly capable of getting by living in a literal hole in the ground and hunting for food, his actual preferences were quite expensive. Nobody that didn’t know him well would have guessed that Illumi was, for lack of a better term, a foodie, but Hisoka had studied the eldest Zoldyck son more thoroughly than anyone, barring the man’s own family. The only thing preventing Illumi from habitually indulging in gourmet food was his iron-clad self discipline. That being said, a free meal with no price ceiling was sure to be a tempting offer for the assassin.

 

Hisoka began to feel restless when 30 minutes had passed and his phone failed to display any new notifications. Toying with his fans on his way out of the stadium had been fun but now that he was back in his room, he was bored again. He idly massaged his sore cheek. The alligator ant had managed to land a lucky blow because Hisoka wasn’t used to his opponents having powerful armored tails. Well, the alligator _had_ a powerful tail. The memory of the creature’s blue blood gushing from the gaping wound made Hisoka press harder at his throbbing cheek, the delicious ache distracting him from the lack of response from his phone. Maybe he’d jack off while he waited. His phone pinged.

 

 _14:37_ **_Illumi:_ ** _19:30 at Le Papillon next Saturday._

 

 _14:39_ **_Illumi_ ** _: I expect a real lead as well._

 

Hisoka glanced at the calendar on his phone. Next Saturday was almost two weeks away, plenty of time for him to plan his next move.

 

 _14:42_ **_Hisoka_ ** _: I look forward to it *^_ < v _

 

Hisoka grinned. It was a good feeling when a gamble paid off. He wouldn't be bored for a few days. He quickly made the reservation at _Le Papillon_. Then he went through the contacts on his phone and made a call.

 

The phone rang three times before the other side picked up.

 

“Hello, Palm? How are you? I’ve missed you.” Hisoka said in a charming voice.

 

Hisoka listened to Palm’s response and hummed once in a while.

 

“Yes, same request as last time. I'll pick you up Friday at 3. We can go anywhere you like.”

 

He made a little more small talk before he ended the call. Playing the part of a gentlemanly date was a small price to pay for information on Killua’s whereabouts.

 

* * *

 

 _Le Papillon_ was located on the top floor of the mammoth hundred-story luxury hotel _La Tremoille._ It was unique in several aspects. Firstly, each table was given its own room, complete with private servers and a stunning view of the city. Secondly, the floor to ceiling windows were bulletproof and the entire top floor was secured using state-of-the-art technology. Thirdly, reservations could only be made if the personage was deemed a very important person (on any side of the law). The restaurant served crime lords, celebrities, and presidents alike, often on the same night.

 

Hisoka stood by the front entrance and checked his watch. It was 7:28, two minutes before Illumi would arrive.

 

He’d abandoned his theatrical fighting costume for a more socially appropriate three piece suit. The linen of the suit was soft to the touch and tailored show off his broad shoulders and trim waist. It was also the palest shade of pink, complimenting his fuschia hair, which was tastefully slicked back instead of gelled up. Around his neck, he wore a maroon and pink striped tie. To complete the look, he’d drawn a simple but sharp black line across each eyelid in place of his usual face paint.  

 

At 7:30 exactly, a sleek black BMW pulled to the side of the curb. The back door opened and Illumi stepped out. The assassin was less flamboyant but equally becoming in an elegant black suit with a forest green tie. He nodded at Hisoka in greeting and the pair stepped into the hotel together.

 

Neither spoke until they’d been seated in their private room. _Le Papillon_ only served one set multicourse meal per night so the only thing they could actually order was alcohol. To Hisoka’s surprise, Illumi spoke before he could.

 

“We’ll have a bottle of the strongest liquor you have, no ice.”

 

The waiter nodded and bowed before leaving.  

 

Hisoka quirked an eyebrow. “Tough night?”

 

“In a manner of speaking.”

 

“Trouble with a job?”

 

Illumi leaned back in his seat, dark eyes betraying nothing, “No. There’s just been some”, he hesitated, “trouble at home. Any new information on Killua?” he asked before Hisoka could press further.

 

“Yes.” Hisoka replied. He took a moment to gauge the atmosphere before saying anything further. “but we have all night. I paid an arm and a leg for this reservation so we might as well enjoy ourselves for now.”

 

A flicker of irritation flashed across Illumi’s face but the he quickly suppressed it. There was a power exchange in this kind of game and as much as he despised wasting time on unnecessary struggle, he had far too much dignity to appear desperate. “You’re right. We can talk about that later. Oh good, the alcohol’s here.”

 

Hisoka turned around just in time to see the waiter walk in with with a bottle of Bruichladdich and two whisky glasses.

 

“We can serve ourselves thank you.” Illumi said as the waiter moved to pour their drinks. The  waiter bowed again and excused himself. Hisoka watched in mild amusement as Illumi poured himself a full glass of the pale gold liquid and drank it down like water.

 

“Feeling a little better?”

 

Illumi reached for the bottle again.

 

“Now, I know you despise the idea but they say that it’s healthy to talk to a friend when something is bothering you.” Hisoka said as Illumi gulped down another glass.

 

Illumi scoffed, an uncharacteristic sound. “I didn’t take you for the the talk-about-your-feelings type. Besides, we’re not friends.”

 

“We’ve worked together more than once and I’m not an easy person to work with. Since you’re still here, you must see some value in continuing our relationship.” Hisoka grabbed the bottle before Illumi could take it again and poured himself a more conservative two fingers. “Since I’m helping you in a mission right now, I think I’m entitled to know about anything that might cause you to act in a way that would endanger me in the future.”

 

“You’ve never complained about being in danger before.” Illumi countered.

 

Hisoka smirked. “You’re right, danger really gets me off, especially when it involves _you._ But I’ve put in a lot of effort into this mission and I’d hate for all my hard work to be ruined because you have some unresolved issues, whatever they may be.”

 

Illumi looked down into his empty glass. The ambient light from the chandelier above them filtered through the fine crystal, casting a little rainbow onto the silk tablecloth. The colors side by side reminded him of his mother’s dresses, organized by shade into a massive rainbow in her closet. She used to be a brilliant jewel in their dreary stone mansion; a blur of sound and energy in an otherwise silent household. Now, she wore nothing but black and hardly spoke.  

 

“Mother’s becoming...unstable.” he said at last, not meeting Hisoka’s eyes. “She killed three butlers today. The first one made a passing comment about Killu in her presence and the other two died trying to calm her down. She thinks Killu is never coming back, but Father won’t let any of us focus on finding him.”

 

Hisoka sat back. That would explain why Illumi suddenly called him three weeks ago and asked to team up despite having been out of contact for almost a year and a half (though not for a lack of effort on Hisoka’s end).  

 

“Is that why you need me to hunt leads for you?”

 

Illumi nodded. “Father continues to insist Killu will return because he's his son. And after what happened with Alluka, he does not wish for us to interfere. He would not respond well if he were to find out I’ve been acting on my own.”

 

The magician studied Illumi through narrowed eyes. All the pieces were starting to fall together but there was still something he needed to verify. “I wasn’t aware you were close to your family, emotionally.” Hisoka said, placing special emphasis on the last word.

 

Illumi looked up, “Of course we’re close. Loyalty to the family is part of what makes us so strong, but,” he paused, “but if Killua doesn’t come back, our family won’t be able to go on.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because Killua is the heir.” Illumi replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

 

Hisoka sipped slowly at his whisky, enjoying the way the alcohol burned down his throat and warmed his stomach. An opportunity he hadn’t planned for was presenting itself and he weighed the pros and cons of following up on it. Pushing Illumi’s buttons when the other was this visibly stressed was a terrible idea. If he pushed too hard they might come to blows. That wasn’t the outcome he had in mind but it definitely wasn’t a bad alternative.

 

“Why does the heir have to be Killua?” he asked, playing dumb.

 

“Killua has the most potential out of all the children this generation. It’s only natural that the strongest child would succeed the family.”

 

 _Bingo._ Hisoka set his glass down and leaned forward to stare into Illumi’s inky eyes. “He may have the most potential but you are stronger than him right now. You’ll be stronger than him for a while yet.”

 

Illumi frowned. “It doesn’t matter if I’m stronger _now._ As long as he doesn’t die, he’ll be stronger than me eventually and at that point, he’ll be a threat if someone else takes over. ” _Especially since he also has Nanika at his beck and call_ , Illumi thought. But there was no point in saying that much.

 

“As things stand right now, that doesn’t really matter does it?” Hisoka pressed.

 

Illumi’s frown deepened. It was the right of the strong to take everything. This was a concept he expected someone as powerful as Hisoka to understand.

 

Killua was sure to overpower him someday. It might take longer since his training outside of home was filled with holes like swiss cheese but the end result was inevitable. Illumi felt his heart tightened a little at the idea of Killua developing, growing into an adult, without his supervision. The alcohol must be getting to him.

 

“Hisoka,” Illumi said slowly as if speaking to a child, “the Zoldyck family can’t be lead by someone easily defeated or influenced.”

 

Hisoka laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained in the polite atmosphere.

 

“I fail to understand how any of this is funny.” Illumi said, voice dripping with irritation. He waited impatiently while Hisoka composed himself.

 

“Dearest Illumi,” Hisoka began, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye much to the assassin’s chagrin, “I don’t think you understand just how much _influence_ you have over Killua.”

 

“He has removed the needle. I can no longer control him like I once did.”

 

“Hmm”, Hisoka hummed, “You’re the manipulator here. I’m sure you know that nen is not the only way to control someone.”

 

“Yes but--”

 

“From what I’ve seen, you did your job too well. Your brother may never be truly free of your influence.”  

 

The memory of Killua’s terrified expression upon hearing that Illumi almost found him flashed through the magician’s mind. Illumi was really underestimating his own abilities if he thought that he wouldn’t have any power over the young heir when the child took over the family.  

 

Illumi’s brow creased, and against his better judgment, he grabbed the whisky and drank a good third of the bottle. He then stood abruptly and walked to the tall windows. The telltale warmth of a buzz was finally creeping through his chest, taking the edge off of the dark emotions swirling in his chest. It wasn’t safe to be so unguarded around someone as dangerous as Hisoka but being around Hisoka always made him act recklessly for no apparent reason.

 

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. In the silence, Illumi studied the headlights of cars creeping around like fluorescent ants on the ground far below. It was fitting, seeing how easily crushed those commoners were. The lumpy spire that was Heaven’s Arena twinkled softly against the night sky in the distance.

 

Hisoka was the one to break the silence. “You’d make a good head, the best out of all your siblings. You should give it some thought.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. Killua is heir, has been since he was born. All I should be thinking about is how to get him back.” Illumi replied, stubborn.

 

“That lie’s getting old. I know you. I know you’d kill to be in control of deadliest family in the world and I know the real reason you want to find Killua is because you miss him.”

 

Illumi’s dark hair fanned out around him as he whirled around and sent a needle flying in Hisoka’s direction. Hisoka dodged easily and caught the projectile between two fingers.

 

“You’re wrong.” Illumi said quietly, dangerously.

 

Hisoka smiled. “You’re lying.”

 

Illumi blew a huff of air out of his nose like a laugh.

 

The time to play his trump card was now or never. Hisoka twisted in his seat to face Illumi more squarely. “He still calls you his brother, you know.”

 

Illumi’s eyes widened slightly, the bloodlust from a moment ago dissipating. “When did you talk to him?”

 

“A while ago, back on Greed Island.” the magician lied.

 

Illumi’s shoulders fell almost imperceptibly and he turned to face the window again.

 

“But you haven’t done much to him since that you haven’t done to him before. I’m sure he hasn’t changed his mind. You’re the closest family he has after all.” Hisoka offered in comfort.

 

Illumi closed his eyes. It was a really bad idea to be so vulnerable in such dangerous company but he could hardly care at this point. Across the room, he heard Hisoka’s chair scape along the marble floor as the pink haired man stood and walked to his side. He didn’t open his eyes as strong arms enveloped him from behind in a hug. Illumi didn’t lean into the embrace but he didn’t pull away either. The entire evening was a mistake. He would allow himself this much more.

 

The sudden sound of the door opening made Hisoka pull back, ending the moment.

 

“Food’s here.” Hisoka announced as he walked back to his seat.

 

Illumi followed wordlessly. As much as he loathed to admit it, Hisoka was right. He did feel better after talking. As long as he was forgiving himself, he might as well mess up hard and accept that Hisoka was more to him than just an acquaintance.

 

Thankfully, the topic of friendship or succession didn’t come up again as they ate. Illumi was in good spirits and divulged personal information more freely than he would have normally.

 

During the appetizer, Hisoka learned that Illumi liked green because villains in his childhood story books always wore green and he’d always like the villains. Talk about the color green quickly led to Gon and after five minutes, Illumi knew more about Hisoka’s thoughts on the little mountain boy than he thought was appropriate. But hey, inappropriate small talk was what friends did right?

 

Hisoka’s most entertaining discovery of the night came when the main course was served. The specialty that night was veal, cooked to a perfect medium rare and artfully arranged around a small garden of greens and carrots.

 

Hisoka  began eating as soon as the plate was put in front of him. Illumi pulled out his phone.

 

“What are you doing?” Hisoka asked around a mouthful of meat.

 

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Illumi chided as tilted his plate and snapped several pictures from slightly different angles.

 

Hisoka chuckled. “I didn’t take you for a takes-pictures-of-your-food type.”

 

“I don’t get to come here often.” Illumi defended, face a little warm (again, the alcohol). He tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Anyways, is this a good time to talk business now?”

 

“Sure, Killua is in Jappon.” Hisoka replied without any hesitation.

 

Illumi blinked, surprised that Hisoka gave up the information so easily.

 

“I trust you got this lead from a reliable source this time?”

 

“Of course.” The magician winked, “I wouldn’t disappoint you twice. Can’t have you thinking I’m impotent.”  

 

Illumi ignored the innuendo, already lost in thought planning his itinerary. If he hurried, he could get out on a flight that night. Jappon wasn’t a very large country but to search the entire country would be difficult nonetheless. The least populated areas were probably the best place to start.

 

“Illumi” Hisoka said, reaching across the small table to snap his fingers a few times in the assassin’s face. “Stop thinking so hard.” He pulled two airship tickets out of his pocket and placed them on the table. “I know more specifically where he is and I’m coming with you.”

 

Illumi blinked. He shouldn’t have been so quick to shoot down the idea, having a friend was surprisingly useful.


	2. Jappon

 

After dinner, both men agreed to take an hour to gather whatever supplies they would need and meet at the airport for their 11:00 pm flight. Hisoka returned to his suite in Heaven’s Arena. He did not feel the need to bring anything for the trip but a shower and a change of clothes would not hurt.

 

The most important task of the hour, however, was to finish relocating Killua. Hisoka had originally planned to call the young Zoldyck and send him his new traveling documents remotely. It appeared, however, that his last visit had spooked the white haired boy into hiding more diligently than before. The phone number Palm had given him had been disconnected and Hisoka strongly doubted anybody could reach Killua using technology anymore. This made his job more difficult but that was part of the fun.

 

Hisoka turned off the water and grabbed a clean towel from the stack next to the shower. After toweling off quickly, he grabbed his phone to send out a text.

 

_9:12 **Hisoka:** Have you found him yet?_

 

While he waited, Hisoka located the hair dryer that came with the suite. He hummed tunelessly as he worked the warm air through his damp hair.

 

_9:15 **Shoot:** I should be close. I found the mountain Palm was talking about but Killua is somewhere really dark so she can’t give me any more clues. _

 

_9:16 **Hisoka:** There should be a small canyon or ravine somewhere on the south side of the mountain. It won’t be very wide but it should be deep._

 

During the past two weeks, he had taken Palm out three times in exchange for information on Killua’s location. Palm had looked at Killua at a different time of day each time but Killua had always been in shadow. Deducing the boy’s location then was simply a matter of understanding the sun’s seasonal movement pattern and having a logical grasp of geography.

 

Shoot still had not replied by the time Hisoka finished drying his hair but Hisoka was not worried. If Shoot failed his mission then he would simply have to delay Illumi until Killua got away. His cover would be blown but at least he would get a decent fight out of it.

 

Hisoka cracked open his tub of hair gel and frowned when he saw that it was nearly empty. Maybe it was time to consider a new hair style. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, turning his face left and right to study the way his slightly wavy hair framed his face. Nope, he would need to pick up more hair gel next time he went to the store.  

 

Hisoka was painting the blue star on his right cheek by the time Shoot replied.

 

_9:39 **Shoot:** It’s hard to tell in the dark but I think found what you’re describing. It’s a place with few trees right?_

 

_9:30 **Hisoka:** Most likely. You have two hours._

 

A few minutes later, Hisoka put the finishing touches on his makeup. The pink haired man took a moment to admire his reflection. Maybe it was superstition but he had found that he didn’t fight as well when he did not look like himself. The makeup made him both beautiful and deadly.

  

One of his favorite battle outfits was laid out on the bed. The white crop top was decorated with a black spade and clover. Underneath, the fitted purple undershirt tucked smoothly into a pair of white pants that accentuated his hips nicely. A gold belt with black diamonds polished off the look. Hisoka couldn’t help but smile as he donned his costume. The last time he’d worn this set was when he had teamed up with Illumi to deal with the Alluka debacle. Call him sentimental, but it felt right that he would wear it again now that he and Illumi were once again working together. Checking over his appearance one more time, Hisoka stepped into his purple heels and called a taxi. 

 

* * *

 

 

Shoot slid his phone back into his pocket and took a moment to let his eyes readjust to the darkness. The ravine Hisoka spoke of was indeed narrow and easy to miss. From his vantage point, he could see that the shadowy crevice bottomed out about halfway down the south side of the mountain. It would take nearly an hour to reach by foot. There was no path leading to the ravine but that was of little consequence to the experienced hunter. Shoot knew that he could get there much faster if he flew on his conjured hands but he didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself. There was a good chance that Killua would run if he sensed nen usage nearby so it was probably safest to use zetsu until Killua could see him coming.

 

The robed hunter took a deep breath and began suppressing the natural flow of aura from his body. The billowy sleeve on his left flattened out as his Hotel Rafflesia disappeared. Confident he couldn’t be sensed except by En, Shoot set off silently towards the ravine.

 

Upon nearing the ravine an hour later, Shoot noted that the air smelled faintly of smoke. That was a good sign. It was doubtful that there was any sort of gas or electric setup this far out in the wilderness so Killua was probably using a fire to cook his meals. It was impossible to see into the dark ravine but the closer Shoot got, the more confident he was that this was indeed where the siblings were hiding.

 

Shoot slowed as he neared the lip of the ravine. The narrow space between the two sheer walls of dirt was pitch black. From what he recalled, Killua was extremely cautious hunter. The memory of being paired up with the boy to train before entering the NGL still amused him. The two of them had been so alike, both too careful to fight until the last available day. There was no doubt in his mind that Killua had set both physical and nen-powered traps in the ravine.

 

At the entrance of the ravine, Shoot gathered his aura to his eyes and peered into the darkness. What he found was astounding by all respects. A single, unbroken sheet of nearly transparent nen sealed off the entrance of the crevice like virtual firewall. The nen was beautiful, rippling in the wind like silk. Shoot knew better than to risk coming into contact with that trap. There was a slim chance that it was simply there to alert Killua when something passed through it but the collection of charred insects laying on the ground in front it told a different story.

 

Shoot stepped back and silently prayed that the young hunter would not attack to kill before releasing his aura at full strength. The seemingly peaceful sheet of nen blocking his path crackled with white hot electricity as it collided with his green aura. From the back of the ravine, a figure emerged, glowing the same brilliant white as firewall. The figure rocketed towards him like a bolt of lightning and Shoot squeezed his eyes shut, instinctively throwing up an arm to shield himself.

 

“Shoot?!”

 

Shoot cracked opened his eyes at the sound of his name and slowly lowered his arm. Killua stood frozen before him, a clawed hand still outstretched to tear his heart out. Killua had grown since the last time the he’d last seen him. The boy had gotten taller but that did not even begin to cover all the ways he’d changed. Killua looked older; older than a child of sixteen ought to look. The stress of caring for his sister and living like a fugitive had carved the baby fat from his cheeks revealing a sharp set of elegant cheekbones. The uncanny light of his nen highlighted the dark circles ringing the bottom of his crystal blue eyes, which were in constant danger of being covered by his overly long bangs. But in contrast with the rest of his face, Killua’s eyes were clear and focused and so very _alive._

 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Shoot said, offering a timid smile, “Long time no see huh?”

 

Killua’s hair slowly fell limp as his hatsu faded. “What are you doing here? How did you--” his eyes widened then narrowed, “Hisoka sent you didn’t he?”

 

Shoot chuckled nervously. “That’s not untrue I guess. But I’m on your side!” he added quickly at the sight of the sour expression twisting Killua’s face.

 

Killua sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. Shoot felt his heart clench with pity. No one, especially a child this young, should have to bear as much suffering as Killua had in his short lifetime.

 

“So I’m guessing this means Illumi is on his way here and I’ve got less than an hour to run?”

 

Shoot nodded, the urgency of the mission returning to him.

 

“That’s going to be difficult.” Killua’s voice was strained with exhaustion as he turned to walk back into the ravine, “Even with Godspeed, there’s no way I’m going to be able to hide all the evidence and still get away in time. Illumi can track a bug through a rainforest if it didn’t cover its tracks.”   

 

“That’s why I’m here.” Shoot said, following. “I’m going to have to smuggle you and your sister out of here using Hotel Rafflesia. When you’re in the cage, your brother won’t be able to sense you, even with En.”

 

“But he can sense you can’t he?” Killua asked, turning one eye towards Shoot.

 

“He can. But he doesn’t know me and hopefully, I’ll be off the continent by the time he gets here.”

 

A bright beam of artificial light flared to life at the back of the ravine. A lanky girl with thick chestnut hair peeked out of a solid looking tent holding a flash light. Shoot waved at her.

 

“Onii-chan?” She said worriedly as Killua and Shoot got closer.

 

“It’s ok Alluka.” Killua drew her into a quick but firm embrace before pulling back and gesturing to Shoot. “This is Shoot. He’s a friend of mine and he’s here to help us.”

 

“Is Illu-nii coming for us again? Where’s Mr. Hisoka?” She asked, relaxing a little.

 

“Yeah, Illumi is coming so we’ve got to get out of here right now.” Killua replied as he ducked into the tent and started shoving necessities and clothing into a duffle bag. “And stop asking after Hisoka. He’s a terrible person and a godawful pervert. He’s not someone an angel like you should associate with.”

 

Shoot watched in amusement as Alluka puffed out her cheeks at Killua’s words before climbing back into the tent to help. The one armed hunter considered lending them a hand (or four) but the tent was small and he didn’t want to get in their way. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little as the siblings argued quietly over the sound of the packing.

 

“Mr. Hisoka is a perfectly nice person if you would just give him a chance.”  

 

“Nope. Trust me Alluka, you have no idea what you’re talking about. What’d he do to win you over so fast anyways?”

 

“He’s helping us out. You could at least be a little thankful.”

 

“Well he’s also the reason we’re in this mess so no.”

 

“Jeez Onii-chan, you can be so dense sometimes. Do you really think Illu-nii couldn’t find us without Mr. Hisoka’s help?”

 

“I don’t care to think about the ‘what if’s’.”

 

“Ugh, you can be so stubborn sometimes.”

 

Shoot thought about the creepy, pink-haired clown rumored to have killed dozens during the election two years ago. Hisoka had approached him a week ago while he was undercover for a different mission. The man had known exactly who Shoot was and what his connection had been to Killua even though Shoot was sure he’d never met the guy before in his life. Taking that into account, he felt inclined to agree with Killua.  

 

A few minutes later, the two Zoldyck teens emerged from their tent carrying two large duffle bags. The pair started began walking out of the ravine, beckoning Shoot to follow them.

 

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to erase all signs of our stay here so I’m not even going to bother.” Killua explained, noticing Shoot’s questioning glance. “I set some charges all around here as a trap but if I blow them now, Illumi will at least have a hard time finding new leads on us. We’re going to need to get a little further away though”

 

Shoot nodded. Caving the ravine in would also be less suspicious than running without trying to hide at all.

 

Killua held up a hand once he deemed the three of them far enough from the ravine. Alluka ran a few paces more, stopping about thirty feet away. She waved for Shoot to join her.

 

The air around Killua crackled as he converted more and more of his aura into electricity. Once he felt that his thunderbolt had been charged enough, he extended his hand towards the ravine, releasing several massive bolts of lightning to strike at six points along the top of the ravine, detonating the charges buried in the ground. The earth shook as the explosion poured several metric tons of dirt and rock into the ravine, burying the crevice.

 

Shoot shuddered as the destruction brought back memories of the nen-made meteor shower that turned the palace in East Gorteau to rubble. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was making the right choice interfering in Zoldyck family matters. He shook his head. Killua was his friend. Not to mention the boy had saved his life back in the fight against Youpi. He couldn’t let his cowardice get the better of him now that Killua was the one in trouble.

 

He watched silently as Killua strode over with his hands in his pockets, a posture leftover from his childhood days.

 

“Ok, now we’re ready to go.”  


Shoot nodded and raised his left sleeve, revealing his nen cage and three disembodied floating hands. Alluka’s eyes widened in wonder and Shoot felt a little twinge of affection for the girl.

 

“This is my hatsu, Hotel Rafflesia. It allows me to shrink things my hands touch and put them in this cage.” He explained for Alluka’s sake. “This is going to feel a little strange but I’m going to shrink you and your brother and carry you out of here in this.”

 

Alluka nodded and grabbed onto Killua’s arm. “I’m ready”, she declared.

 

“So am I.”Killua said.

 

Shoot nodded and narrowed his eyes in concentration as he guided his nen hands to the siblings and carefully scooped them up into the cage. The cage now felt significantly heavier but it wouldn’t be a problem.

 

“Alright then,” Shoot muttered to no one in particular, “Zaban city, here we come.”

 

* * *

  

Hisoka and Illumi were still in the air by the time Shoot made his getaway.

 

Hisoka felt his phone buzz once in his pocket. He glanced over at Illumi, trying to judge whether it was safe to look at the message or not.

 

Illumi had been largely unresponsive for the majority of the flight. The assassin sat, unmoving, in his aisle seat, large black eyes glued to the seat back in front of him. At first, Hisoka had thought that Illumi was just deep in thought because the black haired man still blinked once in a while. As time dragged on though, Hisoka began having creeping suspicions that Illumi was actually asleep. To test his theory, he waved his hand in front of the assassin’s eyes. Illumi's eyes did not follow the movement but his hand shot up, lightning quick, and tightened around Hisoka's arm with the strength of a hungry boa constrictor. Hisoka felt his bones creak in protest.

 

Precisely two seconds later, Illumi blinked several times in succession and released Hisoka’s arm. “What are you doing?” he asked as Hisoka withdrew his arm and rubbed at the newly forming bruise.

 

“You were asleep.” Hisoka replied.

 

“Yes I was. That doesn't answer my question.”

 

“Was that just a reflex then? Do you respond to movement in your peripheral vision as well?” Hisoka asked, ignoring Illumi's question.

 

The corners of Illumi’s lips turned downwards, displeased. “Why are you so curious?”

 

“Because I'm sitting next to you,” Hisoka replied, voice a little mocking but in a playful way, “and as much as I'd like to get more physical with you, I don't much fancy getting killed by you in your sleep.”

 

The assassin huffed, “Fine. Yes it's a reflex. And yes, quick movements in my peripheral trigger me too.”

 

“Ok, one last question. Do you ever sleep like a normal human being?”

 

Illumi scowled, “Yes, when not in public or in danger.”

 

“Good to know! Do not try to wake you while within arm’s reach and get you to a bed if I want to cuddle.” Hisoka said with a shit eating smile. He made a little shooing gesture, “Now please get up, I have to use the restroom.”

 

Illumi sighed in exasperation but stood to let Hisoka pass. He was starting to regret the whole friendship business already.

 

Once he was in the bathroom, Hisoka pulled out his phone.

 

_12:40 **Shoot:** Got them. On the airship to Zaban _

 

_12:50 **Hisoka:** Excellent! I'll be in touch *^_^v_

 

There was a ping from the intercom. A cheerful female voice announced that the airship would be landing in a few minutes and asked for all passengers to please return to their seats. Hisoka grinned. The fun part was beginning.  

 

* * *

 

 

One of the many Zoldyck butlers was waiting when Illumi and Hisoka got off the airship. The drive into the mountain was silent save for the occasional directions Hisoka provided.   

 

Hisoka’s role as the guide ended when they reached the mountain. The acrid stench of explosives and ozone hung heavy in the air and Illumi broke into a run without thinking. In his mind, he knew he was too late. Something had already happened and the chances that Killua was still here was slim to none. A mass exodus of wildlife was underway heading in the opposite direction with rabbits, birds, and the occasional magical beast running blindly in terror. Some of the more intelligent animals stopped in their tracks, torn between their fear of the explosion behind them and the murderous intent coming headlong. Illumi paid them no mind.

 

He did not stop until he reached the edge of a small cliff overlooking the epicenter of the destruction. The moonlight illuminated the valley below him and he could clearly see the remains of a small ravine that had been caved in. A quiet fury began to simmer in his breast as he surveyed the scene and put two and two together. Steaming boulders singed by the exothermic blast littered the rubble amidst shattered trees whose green leaves had yet to realize their trees had died. That and the heavy smell of torn earth indicated that the explosion must have been recent. An excess of static electricity lingered in the air like a signature.

 

Illumi’s breath hitched. Killua had just been here and something had tipped him off. Or more likely, _someone._

 

At some point, Hisoka had reached the cliff as well, and was standing beside him with one hand propped on his hip, casually assessing the damage. Before the magician could say a word, Illumi’s hand was wrapped tightly around his throat, cutting off his air supply. Hisoka face split into a macabre smile as he met Illumi’s rage filled gaze. The assassin’s fury was a tangible force field, pulsing around his body, and Hisoka derived great pleasure from the thought that it was his action that had elicited such great and terrible anger.  

 

“Did you tell him?” Illumi growled, voice dripping with lethal intent.

 

Hisoka jerked his head side to side an inch. As much as he enjoyed this kind of situation, he could not let the ruse end just yet. Black spots punctuated his vision as Illumi squeezed his throat harder. At this point, Hisoka had to admit how much he appreciated how thorough Illumi’s training was. The assassin knew just how hard to squeeze to make his mind fuzz over with pain but not hard enough to crush his trachea beyond repair. The pain in his throat paired well with the burning in his lungs and Hisoka felt his blood rush to his groin. Every cell in his body screamed for air while his basest survival instincts urged him to rip Illumi’s arm off and end it right then. Hisoka couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive.

 

Illumi’s expression contorted in disgust at the sight of the euphoric expression on Hisoka’s face. He let go, not paying any attention to the way Hisoka crumpled to the ground, coughing. Strangling the clown was not going to get him the answers he needed. Illumi extracted one of the many needles embedded in his clothes. Hisoka may be a skilled liar but he was a world-class manipulator; there was no need for him to play any kind of guessing game. The assassin knelt and without any hesitation, stabbed the needle smoothly into Hisoka’s forehead.

 

Hisoka’s golden eyes snapped open as the needle entered his head. Illumi watched, impressed, as Hisoka’s eyes flashed in rebellion. Nobody had ever resisted once his needle was set, not even members of his own family. It was a pity he had to break someone so strong. Eventually, Hisoka’s gaze dulled and the resistance fell away.  

 

“Did you tell Killua I was coming?”

 

Hisoka laid limp on the ground and wheezed as he struggled to force air out of his crushed larynx.

 

“No.” he managed at last.

 

Illumi’s eyes narrowed. That was not the answer he was expecting, but there was no way Hisoka could lie while under his control.

 

“Tell me everything you know about Killua’s whereabouts.”

 

“I know...nothing” Hisoka responded with difficulty.

 

“How have you been finding him so far?”

 

“Mystic... with crystal ball”

 

Well shit. Illumi stood and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more: the existence of the mystic or the fact that Hisoka had been telling the truth the first time he’d asked.

 

“What’s their name?” he asked.

 

“Don’t know.” Hisoka replied, unseeing eyes staring off into nothing.

 

Illumi resisted the strong urge to stomp on Hisoka’s head out of frustration. The results, or lack thereof, of his interrogation felt like running full-speed into an iron wall. A lot of things were not stacking up. Was it possible that there was a third party interfering in this game of cat and mouse? That was improbable. The rest of his family was staying out all matters concerning Killua, and he could think of no one else willing to risk their lives just to get in his way. If Hisoka truly knew nothing, there was nothing more he could do. Illumi knelt once more.

 

Matters were much more complicated now. There was nobody as competent as Hisoka when it came to finding people who didn’t want to be found. Judging from how poorly Killua had reacted to finding a needle in his head though, Illumi had little hope Hisoka would agree to keep working with him after his betrayal. He had effectively just shot himself in the foot for nothing.

 

All hell was going to break loose once he extracted his needle unless he could figure out a way to defuse the situation before it went from desperate to unsalvageable. Knowing Hisoka, the man would want to fight the moment he woke up. And a fight would be a good way for Hisoka to let blow off some of his reactive anger too, but fighting was not going to put them on good terms again. If he wanted Hisoka to keep helping him, he was going to need to find a more diplomatic way to mend the bridge.

 

Illumi mulled over a few unlikely scenarios before conceding that there was no good alternative for the obvious solution. He needed to make Hisoka forgive him. The question then became how he was going to go about doing that. He had never angered anyone worth apologizing to before, outside of his family members anyways. From what he had observed, normal people usually convinced others to forgive them by displaying a lot of remorse and then promising to do something that would make the hurt party happy. In his rather atypical family, apologies were given in the form of accepting corporal punishment. Considering he did not feel as remorseful as he did frustrated, Illumi decided to go with his family’s tradition. He gripped the head of the needle and tore it out of Hisoka’s forehead before he could convince himself not to.

 

It took a few seconds for Hisoka to regain awareness, but that was expected considering normal people would not have the strength to regain consciousness at all. Illumi waited. Moments later, a fist slammed into his cheek like a bullet train. The force of the punch threw him back several yards, smashing him into a sturdy cedar tree. Illumi heard a resounding crack as both the trunk of the wide tree and his ribs fractured from the impact. A powerful knee to his stomach knocked the air from his lungs before his body could even hit the ground. His mouth filled with that taste of iron.

 

Illumi pushed himself up and kept his eyes on the ground as he readied himself for a third blow. He glanced up curiously when it never came.

 

Hisoka was the picture of livid. The magician’s normally bright pink aura was streaked with black and contracted painfully around his body as if retroactively trying to protect him from invasion. A thin trickle of blood flowed down from the puncture wound, following the contour of his nose. His eyes shone with the feral glow of a cornered predator. Despite all this, however, Hisoka was not moving to attack again.

 

“Are you trying to insult me Illumi?” the magician rasped hoarsely.

 

Of all the accusatory questions Illumi had been expecting, that had not been it. “What?” he replied, bewildered.

 

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Hisoka rasped, aura vibrating with anger.

 

“I--”  

 

“If you’re going to humiliate me like that then at least give me a real fight.” Hisoka snarled.

 

Illumi furrowed his brow. Fighting was the exact opposite of what he was trying to achieve. “I’ve wronged you.”  

 

“Damn right you have and now you’re insulting me too. _Fight me Illumi.”_

 

Illumi almost cringed at the way Hisoka had spat the syllables of his name out like a dirty curse. The corporal punishment apology was clearly not working. Time to try remorse and promising favors he’d regret later.

 

“I won’t fight you Hisoka,” Illumi said, keeping an eye on Hisoka’s stormy aura, “because I’m sorry and I don’t want to make things worse.”

 

Hisoka cackled abrasively. “Do you really think _sorry_ is enough to make up for what you just did?”

 

“No, of course not.” Illumi swallowed, “But I mean it. I’m sorry and I’ll do anything, short of fighting you, to make this up to you.”

 

Hisoka’s eyes narrowed, “Anything?”

 

Ah, and there was the regret. “Anything.”

 

Hisoka grinned and it was as comforting as the prospect of getting beheaded by a guillotine, face up. He should have left Hisoka a zombie and braved his father’s wrath to find Killua on his own.

 

“There’s a famous amusement park in Zaban city I’ve always wanted to visit.”

 

Illumi’s eyebrows struggled to reach his hairline. “Really? You just got an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re going to waste it on an amusement park?”

 

“Watch it dear, you’re still on thin ice.” Hisoka chided in a sing-song voice, “Besides, the fact that you apologized means you still needed me. You’ll owe me much larger favors in the future I’m sure.”

 

Illumi felt like his stomach sink like a boulder in a lake. Forget leaving Hisoka a zombie, he should have killed the clown when he had the chance.

 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re lovely when you’re distressed?” Hisoka teased.

 

Illumi felt so thrown off balance by Hisoka’s sudden mood inversion that he could not find a way to respond.

 

“Anyways,” Hisoka drawled, “I’m going to go kill something and you are not welcome to join me. Be in Zaban city in two weeks. I’ll text you the specifics.”

 

As Illumi watched Hisoka’s retreating back, he couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow—despite all his planning and advantages—Hisoka had still tricked his way out on top.

 

* * *

 

 

Hisoka walked until he was sure Illumi was gone before breaking down in a fit of laughter. His gamble had paid off: Illumi was his.

 

He rubbed absently at the tiny hole in his head as he sank to the ground, back pressed against a smooth birch. The more experiences he had, the more he was grateful for his hatsu. Bungee Gum was a power with a million uses and tonight, he had confirmed one more. He had been unsure as to whether his hatsu was strong enough to contain Illumi’s manipulative nen before he’d tried it. Illumi was a formidable fighter—one of the strongest he knew—but evidently, not stronger than him. Coating the Illumi’s needle in Bungee Gum was one of his more brilliant ideas, if he did say so himself.

 

The events of the night could only be considered gratuitous. Illumi had manipulated himself into trusting Hisoka and had willingly placed himself in Hisoka’s debt to boot. Hisoka felt more laughter bubble up against his sore throat. Waiting two weeks was going to be torture.

 

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry if this turned to gibberish by the end. I've read this so many times the words don't even mean anything to me anymore. 
> 
> Writing in isolation is really draining. Someone please come talk Hisoillu to me at http://sphericallyadept.tumblr.com/


	3. Zaban, part 1

Zaban was a boisterous, colorful city. The locals liked to joke that it was impossible to walk three blocks without getting your pockets picked empty by merchants and thieves (there being very little difference between the two). It was the kind of place where immorality was an industry and crime was par for the course.

The danger of the city did little to dampen its flourishing tourist industry though. People from all over the known world flocked to marvel at the mysteries of the Zaban ruins, play in the casinos, and conduct underground business in broad daylight.  

If one had only a day or two in Zaban, however, there were two attractions that took precedence over the others. One was the sprawling, open-air market that stretched over ten square blocks in the heart of the city. Rumor had it that anything from groceries to human organs could be purchased from the Zaban market as long as you had the money and knew where to look. The other was the Zaban Dream: a massive theme park for children and adults alike that made a name for itself by offering the most thrilling entertainment on the continent. In addition to rides and the usual amusement park fares, the Zaban Dream also featured a year round carnival with fair games, nightly parades, and a 24-hour casino.

And that was how an uncomfortably warm spring day found Illumi fidgeting impatiently outside the famous theme park’s giant wrought-iron gates. The assassin had yet to step foot into the park but he was already beginning to believe that suffering through a day at the amusement park was a punishment on par with his crimes.

Just being in close proximity to the park was trying. A loudspeaker by the door was playing an annoyingly-cheerful tune on endless repeat. The mind-killing tune was interrupted only by the shrill screaming that drifted over the park wall every ten seconds or so. With each passing minute, Illumi felt his brain functions grow duller and his patience wear thinner. Even breathing was unpleasant. The stench of grease and sugar hung so heavily on the air that Illumi swore he could almost breathe in the fat. It was beyond him how Hisoka, or anyone for that matter, could enjoy this kind of squalor.

Illumi checked his phone. It was five minutes past the time he and Hisoka had agreed to meet. In all the years he had known the magician, this was the first time Hisoka had ever been late. Illumi could only hope that something had happened to him.

A noisy gaggle of tourists ambled by, pausing at the gate to take a disorganized group photo. Illumi closed his eyes with distaste when he felt the appreciative glances of several women (and men) rake over him. Hisoka had said to dress inconspicuously, which he had interpreted that as a long-sleeve, pastel yellow knit shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans. The brunet was the first to admit that his sense of style was often out of line with mainstream fashion, but surely his attire today did not warrant the amount of unwanted attention he was getting.

Illumi looked down at his shirt. When he had gotten dressed that morning, he had liked the way air ventilated through the shirt via the loose, v-shaped neckline. Now, all he could see was the way it revealed more of his angular collarbones than he would have liked. The fact that he had pinned all his hair into a giant bun on the top of his head probably didn’t help his feminine appearance, but it would be a cold day in hell before he let his hair rub all over grimy public facilities.

A low, familiar whistle caught his attention.

“I thought I told you to be inconspicuous.” Hisoka teased as he approached. “You’re going to turn every head on the block looking like that, _baby_ ~”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Illumi deadpanned, taking in Hisoka’s ensemble. The magician look very much like a rock star in his studded leather jacket, dark wash jeans, and exaggerated eyeliner. With his flaming hair hanging in loose waves around his unpainted face though, he at least passed for a normal human being.

Hisoka smirked, “Does that mean you like what you see?”

“Do shut up." Illumi replied, thrusting a park ticket at Hisoka. “Where were you anyways? You’re late.”

“Oooh, someone’s feeling snippy today. Why? Were you worried?”

“Hisoka, I understand that you derive great pleasure from making me angry but please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Well, too bad that today’s not about you now isn’t it?”

Illumi swallowed the retort on the tip of his tongue. He had been so irritated that he had forgotten that he was supposed to be apologizing. The pair scanned their tickets and entered the park without any more griping on Illumi's part.

If the outside of the park was annoying, the inside of the park was pure sensory overload. Uniformed vendors harassed passersby from brightly colored stands, competing to sell the same flashing musical toys. A chaotic jangle of electronic beeping and 8-bit music poured out of the arcade, clashing with the cheerful big-band music playing from the speakers on the lampposts.

But worst of all was the _people._ Illumi shifted uncomfortably as the crowd pressed in oppressively from every direction. Everywhere he looked, there was a sea of people: waiting in lines, laughing loudly in groups, and eating the all manners of disgusting deep-fried junk. The nauseating stink of body odor mingled with the smell of grease and smoke in a triple assault on Illumi’s sensitive nose. It took all the self-restraint he had not to kill someone when a giggling girl, no taller than his hip, clipped his leg hard as she charged by.

Illumi could feel his pulse drumming in his skull as the noise and the smell and the people mingled into the beginnings of a migraine. His foul mood must have shown on his face because Hisoka was giving him a concerned look.

“Are you feeling alright Illu? You’re looking a little murderous. If you kill anyone, we’ll get kicked out.”  

“Ha, don’t tempt me” Illumi muttered humorlessly as he shut his eyes. But as much as he hated it, Hisoka was right. He was here to make amends and getting them kicked out of the park for pointless murder was not conducive to that goal.

The assassin exhaled slowly, mentally shutting out all stimuli as he focused on counting backward from a hundred. With trained efficiency, he willed his breathing and heartbeat to calm into a resting rate the way he did before executing a difficult job. When he opened his eyes again, the fog in his brain had lifted and he could take a breath without feeling the urge to gag.

“So what do we have to do?” Illumi asked once he had gotten a grip.

Hisoka took a second to look around. “Have you ever been to an amusement park before?”

“Obviously not.”

“Let’s start with the rollercoaster then.”

Illumi nodded his consent and allowed Hisoka to lead them through the throngs of people. Thankfully, the upgraded tickets Illumi had purchased came with a skip-the-line pass so they didn’t have to suffer the hour long wait. In mere minutes, they had been strapped firmly into first of four cars and were sent slowly on their way. Interestingly, instead of moving forward, the cars were being pulled up the hill backwards so that the riders could not see the impending drop.

“Nervous?” Hisoka goaded as they rose higher and higher into the air.

“Not really.” Illumi replied, studying the ground below them with mild interest. From their position, the entire park could be seen, spread out like a giant board game. Subconsciously, the assassin noted the exits and mentally mapped out the fastest escape routes. “We’ve jumped from actual cliffs before so --” The rest of Illumi’s sentence was lost they suddenly plummeted over the top of the first hill and the g-force pushed his stomach into his throat.

As the roller coaster cars twisted and looped along the winding track, Illumi had to concede that riding a rollercoaster was not at all like jumping off a cliff and—not that he would ever admit it out loud—was actually kind of exciting. Not exciting enough to warrant all the screaming that was happening around him though.

A particularly well designed loop somehow turned the cars around so that they plunged face-first into a series of tight spirals. Illumi reveled in the cool air whipping against his face the rollercoaster rushed downwards. Everything was great until the cars coasted over an unexpected hill at the bottom of its dive and he heard an involuntary peep escaped his throat.

Mortified, he shot a quick glance at Hisoka. The magician was grinning like he’d found a particularly powerful opponent, dashing Illumi’s hope that maybe he hadn’t heard. To Illumi’s surprise, though, Hisoka doesn’t comment on the embarrassing slip after they stepped off the rollercoaster.

“What next?” Hisoka asked instead, with a smile that looked genuine and normal and made Illumi feel more disconcerted than any leer.

The assassin took the opportunity to turn and look _anywhere else_. The strange bubbly feeling in his stomach was nothing more than leftover adrenaline from the ride, he told himself as he scanned the park. Going on another ride was a bad idea. The pleasure he derived from the rides was not worth the humiliation he would suffer if he made more stupid noises.

A flurry of color in the distance caught Illumi’s eye before he could suggest to do something else though. The ride in question was a senseless jumble of movement, the seats rotating wildly on long metal arms which swung in unpredictable orbits. Illumi hated that just looking at it made him feel excited and he hated himself more for pointing at it.

Hisoka positively glowed.

Ten minutes later, they were done and Illumi was ready to punch himself in the face. Next to him, Hisoka looked much too happy for his liking.

“Which one next?” the magician asked with a shit eating grin.

Illumi stared at his shoes. Slashing his vocal chords was always an option. He would lose the ability to speak but he would never make any stupid happy sounds again. That or he could blow out Hisoka’s eardrums.

As the silence dragged on, Hisoka decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Illumi,” Hisoka commanded, voice serious, “look at me.” When Illumi refused to look up, Hisoka reached out and grabbed the assassin’s shoulder, wheeling him around so that they were face to face. Hisoka rolled his eyes when the brunet continued to stare adamantly at the ground. “Would you just relax? Nobody is going to judge you for having fun at an amusement park. Fun is what this place is for.”

Illumi scowled. “I am _not_ having fun.”

“You’re being immature.”

“Says the grown man who likes to waste his time at amusement parks.”

Hisoka carded his hand through his flaming pink hair in exasperation. “Fine, you’re not having fun. If you don’t want to go on rides anymore, we can do something else.”

Illumi stalked away without giving a reply. He knew he was being childish but he could not afford to grant Hisoka that kind of satisfaction. Embarrassment aside, giving the manipulative clown any sway over his emotions was not a risk he was prepared to take. He may not have much experience with positive relationships like friendship but he was not stupid. Happiness was a powerful manipulator. Killua’s suffering at Gon’s whims was a prime example of how much sacrifice the promise of happiness could solicit.

 

* * *

 

Neither of them spoke as Illumi’s undirected wandering eventually led them to the fair games. Even without words, it was possible to sense the heavy displeasure radiating from Hisoka. The gaudy fair games provided a welcome distraction from the tension in the air.

Each game stall competed to be flashier than the last. Tacky streamers and golden tinsel among other things decorated the awnings and walls of every booth. Stuffed animals in all shapes and sizes hung on the walls to entice park goers into sinking money into the obvious rigged games.

Illumi stopped to watch as a man loudly declared his intentions to win his girlfriend the grand prize at a ring toss stand. The assassin huffed in amusement as all three of the man’s uncoordinated throws fell piteously between the bottles. The woman patted her boyfriend’s arm in consolation and pulled him away before he could waste more money. As the couple walked away, the porky man attending the stall spotted Hisoka and Illumi and waved them over.

“How about testing you skills for your lovely lady sir?” the greasy attendant wheezed at Hisoka, “Win and I guarantee she’ll thank you dearly tonight!”

Illumi’s vision flashed red. A strong hand grabbed his arm before he could reach for his pins.  

“How about it _darling_? Care to see a magic trick?”  Hisoka cajoled, waggling his eyebrows. He pressed a finger to Illumi’s lips before the furious assassin could reply. “Shhhh, just nod yes.”

Illumi hesitated, torn between his need to commit murder and his curiosity about what Hisoka had in mind. In the end, curiosity won out over anger and he grudgingly nodded.

Hisoka grinned. Slapping money down on the counter, he pointed at the giant plush penguin labeled as the grand prize. “What does it take to get that one?”

“Three hoops on the red bottle and the prize is yours.” the attendant answered, sliding three plastic hoops over the counter.

Hisoka smiled and raised one of the rings to his eye, peering through it at the red bottle on the far edge of the bottle setup. The diameter of the ring was barely wider than the necks of the bottles. A normal person had only a fool’s chance at winning, but Hisoka was hardly normal. The magician smirked as he sent the first ring flying with a flick of his wrist. It sliced through the air like a knife, barely catching the lip of the bottle but spinning smoothly down the neck once it had.

The attendant’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.

The second ring followed soon after, flipping like a coin.

“Two down.” Hisoka said with a theatrical flourish as it landed neatly on top of the first. “Now keep your eyes peeled—you don’t want to miss this last one~”

Illumi felt his eyes roll so hard he could almost see into his own head but he activated his Gyo like Hisoka asked. As he suspected a glowing pink string of Bungee Gum was stuck to the last ring as it was tossed backward over Hisoka’s shoulder. While the trick was hardly impressive, it was somewhat amusing to see the stand attendant’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as the plastic hoop levitated in circles following Hisoka’s twirling finger. With a dramatic flick of his hand, the magician let the final hoop slip onto the neck of the bottle. Illumi applauded sarcastically as Hisoka bowed.

“Impressed my dear? You can speak the truth now.” Hisoka said, eyes flashing with mischief.

The corner of Illumi’s mouth twitched as he caught on. “Yes dear, that was very impressive.” He replied, voice an octave lower than usual. The stand attendant stared at Illumi in shock, blotchy face bypassing pink and going straight to crimson as he realized his mistake. A pink swatch of nen sealed his mouth like duct tape before he could say anything and he scrambled at his face in confused panic.

The flummoxed attendant fell still as Hisoka leaned in suddenly, grinning to show off his inhumanly sharp canines. “You see,” the pink-haired hunter began, letting his frightful aura bleed into the air around him, “sometimes things are not as they seem. You would do well to think before you speak in the future.” The worker nodded frantically as Hisoka’s aura swirled around him like an invisible blizzard, sucking the air out of the space. Hisoka watched gleefully as thirty seconds, a minute passed and the man began clawing at his throat in desperation, complexion turning an unhealthy shade of violet.  “Well, if you ever speak again.”

Watching Hisoka’s sadistic display, Illumi once again felt unwarranted warm tingling in his chest. He frowned.

The last time he had felt this pleased was back when he was first training Killua in the basics of assassination and Killua had taken to it like a fish to water. It was natural and acceptable that his beloved brother’s development into a strong, merciless killer would inspire affectionate pride within him. That Hisoka was able to do the same made no sense.

It only took half a minute more for the stand attendant to pass out from oxygen deprivation. Illumi put all thoughts of emotion from his mind as they turned to leave.

At some point, Hisoka had retrieved the penguin that was his prize and they had walked maybe a dozen paces when Illumi suddenly found the stuffed animal shoved in front his face.

“For you.” Hisoka explained in response to Illumi’s questioning glance, “As an apology for that man’s foolish comments.”

Illumi blinked in surprise and took the penguin into his arms, at once pleased and irritated. While the gesture was wholly unnecessary, the unexpected nature of it served to make it all the more pleasant. The toy was also softer than anticipated, which was nice.

What he did not enjoy was the happy fluttering returning full force when he tucked the stuffed animal under his arm. All in all, though, the good outweighed the bad and a whimsical idea began to take form.  

Illumi clutched the penguin to his chest with one arm as he led them back to a balloon popping game they had passed earlier. Bold red words on a lemon yellow sign exclaimed, “POP THREE BALLOONS FOR THE GRAND PRIZE!”

Illumi wordlessly handed over ten jenny to the game attendant and accepted the darts she gave him in return. The moment he picked them up, he could tell that the darts had been weighted improperly. The additional weight ensured the darts would not fly straight but was subtle enough that an amateur player would not notice it. Illumi was skilled enough that he could still pierce an insect midflight with the rigged darts but he found the cheap trick to be annoying, and he really wasn’t the type to drag things out longer than they had to be.

Gathering his nen into a single dart, Illumi sent it flying with so much force that the entire stand shuttered upon its impact. The sound of one hundred balloons popping in unison rang like a gunshot, sending the unfortunate stand attendant diving, screaming, under the table.

Illumi paid her terror no mind as he dropped into a low squat to look her in the eye. “I believe I win.” he said, managing to sound both nonchalant and threatening.  

Hisoka shook with silent laughter as the terrified worker scurried back out from under the table to give Illumi his prize. The entire prize display crashed down in her haste but, eventually, she retrieved the large white teddy bear that was the grand prize.

“Thank you.” Illumi chirped as he took the bear from her trembling hands.

Hisoka did not stop laughing until they were a good ways away from the balloon stand. “It’s not nice to make ladies piss themselves in fear you know.” The magician teased, making a show of wiping his eye and sighing in contentment.

“But you said nobody was going to judge me for having fun.” Illumi countered good-humoredly. He jerked in surprise when Hisoka slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close in a friendly hug.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Hisoka chuckled into Illumi’s ear.

Illumi tried not to shiver from the sudden intimacy. Hisoka smelled nice: sweet, like candy, but with distinctive undertones of a more masculine musk. This was the second time that Hisoka had initiated casual physical contact, and though Illumi wasn’t generally fond of being touched, he did not find it unpleasant. He enjoyed the warmth for a second more before he pulled away to face the magician.

“For you,” Illumi said, offering the bear, “As an apology for what happened in Jappon.”

Illumi felt a surge of regret as soon as he words left his lips. Compared to Hisoka’s irritating but benign pranks, his transgressions in the island country had been kilometers past the line. Mimicking Hisoka’s apology now was nothing more than making a mockery of the man’s earlier gesture.

As if to confirm his mistake, Hisoka made no move to take the stuffed animal, staring at it instead with an indecipherable intensity. It was moments like this that reminded Illumi of how dangerous Hisoka really was. While the pink haired clown like to parade around masquerading an open book, his innermost thoughts and motivations were a complete mystery. The only thing Illumi was sure of when it came to Hisoka was that he could be sure of nothing.

At this point, though, the damage was already done and the only thing he could do was to ride out the train wreck to the end. With that thought, Illumi finally forced himself to vocalize the question burning on his tongue.

“So do you forgive me?”

Hisoka’s lips quirked, and he looked up, “Would you be upset if I don’t?”

Illumi’s felt his breath catch as the word ‘ _yes’_ sprang to his mind, quick as a reflex. It was a bad sign that, despite all the reservations he had about the getting close to Hisoka, the idea of the other being actively upset at him did not appeal to him at all. Apart from his family members, he had never before cared about the opinion of others. Why did it matter what Hisoka thought of him now?

Well, he mused, Hisoka was a powerful killer—on par with himself even—and was interesting in that he was difficult to read and even harder to manipulate. To put it simply, the magician was the closest thing to a peer he had. While Illumi would not say that he was lonely, it was nice to have someone around who understood the world the way he did.

More importantly, he was reluctant to forgo the man’s impressive intelligence gathering capabilities. Without his father’s limitations, Illumi was sure he could have Killua home within the week; but as it stood, working alone would drag out the mission unnecessarily. And truth be told, while Hisoka was annoying more often than not, Illumi could not deny that Hisoka was probably the only person he knew that both _could_ and _would_ work with him.

It was inadvisable to let Hisoka know any of this though. They were already on uneven footing and confessing his emotional investment without knowing how Hisoka felt about him would skew the balance of power even more in Hisoka’s favor.

Illumi thought a moment longer before giving his reply.

“I would prefer that we be on good terms for the sake of our collaboration. That being said, I don’t see the value in being upset about how you feel as long as it doesn’t interfere with out working together.”

Hisoka let out a barking laugh and grabbed the teddy bear. “Coming from you, that's as good as a confession!” He winked, “You don’t have to think so hard Illu~ Of course I forgive you. Friends don’t hold grudges over such insignificant things.”

Illumi was almost dizzy from the sudden and drastic change in atmosphere but he didn’t resist as Hisoka dragged him down the path with a sly “Now let's have some real fun.”

An hour later, the two hunters were escorted out of game stands with towering armloads of stuffed animals and a bulging plastic bag containing at least fifteen goldfish. The three security guards marched them a good ways from the games in nervous silence before rushing back to deal with the pandemonium they had left behind.

Illumi turned and craned his neck to look back at the distant stands. All the game staff that had misfortune of serving Hisoka or himself were in various states of shock. Even from their distance, the wails of a terrified children could still be heard coming from the goldfish scooping stand. And while the target shooting game was no longer on fire, there was a large black soot stain where it had been singed in a small explosive blast. All in all, the damages were quite tame considering he and Hisoka were the perpetrators.

The assassin sighed: messing with the staff and the other park goers _was_ fun. It was a shame they got kicked out so quickly. He shot Hisoka a dirty look, “I _told_ you that rigging the gunpowder was a bad idea. You knew they were looking for an excuse to get rid of us.”

Hisoka snorted, “You say that like I was the one who swallowing live goldfish. Those kid are going to have nightmares for years.”

“I won those goldfish; I’m allowed to do whatever I wanted with them. I was hungry”

“And you couldn’t wait until we finished and got real food?”

“The fish are more real than any of the ‘food’ you can buy here. Unlike you, I like to know what I put in my mouth.”

“Don’t take me for a barbarian. Those kinds of games are only fun with the right company~ I could show you if you like <3”

Illumi rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the sexual jibe. He shifted his arms and frowned when a stuffed snake fell from his precarious pile of winnings onto the ground.

“What do we do with all this?” Illumi asked, gesturing at the toys with his head.

Hisoka glanced around. A growing crowd of children were gathering at a distance, marveling at their winnings in awe.

“We could give it to them.” Hisoka said, jerking his head towards the children.

Illumi nodded.

It did not take long for the excited children to scavenge away most of the prizes. In less than a minute, they were down to Hisoka’s bear, Illumi’s penguin, the bag of goldfish which Illumi decided would be a good addition to his family’s koi pond, and a round plush of a black bird that Hisoka had thought was too cute to give away despite Illumi's insistence.

“But what would you do with it?” Illumi asked as he took the bird to get a closer look at the pink patches stitched on its cheeks.

“Nothing really--I just thought it would be a shame to give something so nice to a random kid.”

“You’re not a child Hisoka. We already have two stuffed animals; we’re not going to carry this one around for no reason.”

Hisoka smirked. “How is this one any different from the other two?”

“Fine. We can throw those away too.” Illumi retorted, unwilling to sacrifice any more of his dignity.

“No need to get so defensive Illu~ I’m just messing with you”, Hisoka cooed, enjoying the annoyed look on Illumi’s face, “How about this? You can give it to Kalluto. He’s _matured_ quite a bit with the Troupe but he’s still young enough to like this kind of thing isn’t he?”

That was…not a bad idea, Illumi agreed as he gave the bird a squeeze. Since Kalluto joined the Phantom Troupe, he was rarely at home. A present was a good way to let him know that his family still cared about him. Though something about the way Hisoka had spoken about Kalluto didn’t sit right with him. Illumi narrowed his eyes. “Stay _away_ from Kalluto.”

 

* * *

 

They were readying to head towards the food stands when Illumi felt a weak tug on his pant leg. He looked down. A tiny boy, no older than three, with hair so blond it was almost white was grasping at his pants with tiny hands. The toddler’s crystal blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and suddenly, it was twelve years ago and Killua was tugging on his pants begging to be picked up and Killua was happily babbling in his ear about all the mundane things that had happened while he was away and Killua was laughing in delight as he grabbed at the present Illumi had brought back for him from his latest mission.

Momentarily possessed by nostalgia, Illumi crouched down to look the grinning toddler in the eye. The child stumbled closer, reaching for the bag of goldfish, not at all afraid.

“Fish!” he babbled with the enthusiastic confidence unique to children first learning to speak. His little face lit up with pride as when Illumi nodded. The child made to grab at the bag again when a frazzled woman, likely his mother, appeared and pulled him into her arms.

“David!” she scolded, “How many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that?” She turned to Illumi, “I’m sorry if he was bothering you sir. You know how kids are, turn around for one second and they’re gone.”

Illumi did understand. When Kalluto had first learned to walk, he would often inexplicably vanish the moment his caretaker turned their back on him. Illumi had admired and encouraged his youngest brother’s natural affinity for stealth but the disappearances drove the butlers into a worried frenzies. The young mother before him no doubt was suffering similar experiences. Though she looked at her child with open affection, the dark bags beneath her eyes spoke of sleepless nights and the endless frustration that came with taking care of a young child. Even now, the boy, David, was struggling against her grip, happily babbling “fish” over and over again as he reached for the bag in Illumi’s hand. He squealed in delight when Illumi gave it to him, ignoring the mother’s objection.

“Killing will make for great stress relief.” Illumi advised, silencing her protests, “Do with them what you want.”

God, he was acting like a saint today.

 

* * *

 

After that, the rest of the day was went mostly without incident. After much pestering from Hisoka, Illumi grumpily conceded to eating the horrid park food. In retaliation, he made sure that Hisoka was watching as he ate an entire sausage in one bite (his gag reflex having been utterly destroyed by his pain tolerance training). He had watched smugly as the magician choked and had spent the next two minutes alternating between coughing and chugging water. After that, they spent some time wandering the park with their stuffed animals and large blue puffs of cotton candy before Illumi finally succumbed to the draw of the rides again.

This time around, Hisoka made an effort to be much more vocal, sparing Illumi the embarrassment of being heard having fun. In return, Illumi didn’t question it when the he disappeared for two minutes after each ride.

Before long, the sun was setting and the speakers began announcing that the rides would shut down soon. Hisoka suggested going on the Ferris wheel and Illumi consented.

 

Neither men spoke as they were ushered into a wobbly, rust-streaked gondola. The aging machinery powering the wheel creaked as it spun, hoisting the pair higher into the fading daylight. Illumi rested his chin on his arm as he peered out of the window at the landscape laid out below him. The rays of the waning sun painted the city in broad washes of tawny orange and elongated shadows, and, at their height, the noise from the park was more like the distant ebb of ocean waves than a roaring waterfall. Illumi unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.

“Had enough?”

Illumi nodded, unwilling to spoil the quiet.

“We can leave after this then.”

Illumi hummed softly in agreement. He waited until the Ferris wheel groaned to a stop before he sat up to face Hisoka. “Where are you staying?”

Hisoka shrugged, “I just got in this morning. I still have to find a place.”

Three seconds passed in silence before Illumi spoke again. “You can stay with me if you want.”

Hisoka quirked an eyebrow.

“My butler accidentally booked me a double room. It would save you some trouble.”

Hisoka snickered, “Bullshit Illumi. I’ve met your butlers. They would sooner die than make an amateur mistake like that. You want information on Killua don’t you?”

Illumi blinked, genuinely surprised to have been seen through so quickly. Given Hisoka’s constant attempts at friendship, he had expected the magician to be elated by his offer. No point in denying the truth at this point, though. “You’re right—I do want to know Killua’s whereabouts, and I’m sure you have that information by now.” He leaned back in his seat, nonchalant, “But I’m not going to make you talk if you don’t want to. Either way, the offer still stands.”

Hisoka let out a quiet laugh and slumped back against the hard seatback. “You’re so cute when you try so hard Illu, but just for that I’ll tell you: Killua is here in Zaban.” He watched, amused, as Illumi’s eyes flickered to the gondola door, as though he were contemplating jumping out then and there. Hisoka stretched and casually propped his feet up on the edge of Illumi’s bench, blocking his path. “Uh-uh, you are not going after him tonight.”

He smiled innocently as Illumi glared daggers at him, the peaceful atmosphere from a moment ago completely forgotten.

“And why is that?”

“When was the last time you had a day off? You just finished a job didn’t you?”

“Yes, and I fail to see how that has to do with anything.”

Hisoka pressed a hand to his chest in mock concern, “Why, rest is a vital component of a healthy life! What would your _father_ say if you got sick on my watch--” He broke off as a needle embedded itself into the seatback next to his throat, missing his flesh by a mere millimeter. His smile grew wider as murderous intent exploded from within Illumi, toxic and intoxicating.

“I am not in the mood to play around. Either say something useful or keep your mouth shut.” Illumi warned, voice low with danger.

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.” Hisoka paused to yank the needle out of the seat, twirling it nonchalantly between his fingers. “You’re too on edge and that’s going to cost you when it matters.”

Illumi scoffed. “I’ve been a professional assassin long before you made a name for yourself. Don’t confuse for one those amateur weaklings you like to toy around with.”

“Then explain why you’ve got you aura on display like a flying advertisement right now. Even an amateur can sense you, say nothing of your talented brother. You need to relax.”

That seemed to do the trick. Illumi appeared to deflate as the tension drained out of his body and he forced himself into a state of zetsu. Anger was still etched clearly on his face but at least he no longer looked like a deer ready to bolt. “The longer we wait, the longer Killua has to run.”

“Then we’ll find him again.” Hisoka replied, waving his hand flippantly. “He’s going to be a lot easier to find from now on anyways.”

“What makes you say that?”

Hisoka’s eyes narrowed in malicious glee “Because he’s not moving alone anymore. I know you hate it when he makes friends but the more people he’s got helping him, the easier it’ll be to find a weak link and make it talk.”

Illumi slumped back in resignation, letting the remaining tension drain from his body. As much as he still wanted to start combing the city right that instant, Hisoka’s was right. Killua had been untraceable during the last two years in part because he had cut off contact with everyone he used to know. The more people that saw him now, the more leads he would leave behind. One thing that he had learned from working with Hisoka was that once the clown got an idea in his head, it was near impossible to convince him otherwise. “Fine. But we go after him first thing in the morning.” he grumbled.

Hisoka practically glowed with delight. “Okay~” he replied in a sing song voice, “And while we’re still talking, I’m still allowed to stay with you tonight right?”

Illumi bit the inside of his cheek and resisted the urge to scream.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, this chapter was really hard to write and I'm not really satisfied with the way it came out. Oh well. 
> 
> Come talk to me at sphericallyadept.tumblr.com !


	4. Zaban, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: torture

Bordot took great pride in his job as a mail man. Sure, it wasn’t the most glamourous of occupations, and it certainly didn’t inspire any jealousy at parties but it kept him off the streets and out of crime which was good enough for a simple man like him. Never in his life had he imagined his boring and safe occupation might one day kill him, yet here he was, staring down death in the form of a hundred bloodthirsty dogs.

Bordot looked at the padded beige envelope with ‘IMPORTANT’ stamped on it in red ink. He had been delivering mail to the nondescript house at the corner of Weslyian and Snow for years now but never before had the occupants received a package that required a signature. There was no way for him to know that opening the front gate of the yard would trigger a canine trap from hell. Perhaps it really was time to consider a career change. His salary looked a lot more mediocre now that he knew it came with the risk being torn apart by dogs at six in the morning.

The sleek black Rottweiler leading the pack growled and Bordot buried his head in his arms, mentally reciting his prayers.

It lunged.

“Down Spike! Bad dog!”

Bordot slowly peered out from behind his arm to see an impressively muscular man stride out of the house, naked save for a pair of white pants cinched at his hips. The man’s large pompadour quivered as he scolded the dog before shooing it and the rest of them away.

“Sorry about that sir.”  Pompadour apologized, “You should have rang the bell by the gate. I’d have come out to meet ya.”

“I-it’s no problem.” Bordot stuttered, heart still hammering in his throat.  He offered the slim envelope “I need you to sign for this.”

Knuckle took the envelope, looking it over as he absentmindedly signed Bordot’s clip board. His eyes widened when he saw the recipient. Before the pen even hit the ground, he was back in the house, leaving mailman standing stunned in the yard.

“Killua!” Knuckle bellowed as he charged into the living room where the white haired boy was doing his morning pushups.

“What is it?” Killua asked, leaping to his feet.

Knuckle thrust the envelope in his direction. “It’s addressed to Alluka.”

A cold tingle ran through Killua’s face and he snatched the envelope, slitting it with a claw. There were precious few people who knew of Alluka’s existence and among those, only one who would know where she was. He pulled out a handwritten note.

The note was unsigned and the spindly handwriting was unfamiliar but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was from.

_Dearest Alluka and Nanika,_

_Happy (belated) birthday! I’ve included a present for you that I think you will like. Make sure your brother takes you to play right away. Have fun <3_

_P.S.  Killua, you have half an hour, maybe less. Do hurry._

Killua read the note three times over before Knuckle impatiently snatched it from him.

He then redirected his attention back to the envelope, turning it upside down and shaking it violently until a small plastic chip fell out. Time seemed to slow as Killua recognized the painfully-familiar circular logo emblazoned on the chip.

G.I. Greed Island.

A rush of memories flooded his mind, overwhelming in their lucidity. Memories of carefree days spent training with Gon in the wilderness under Bisky’s strict supervision, teaming up the lone star hunters, defeating the Bombers felt like a different lifetime. These days, he rarely thought about the times before the Chimera Ants took the world by storm and turned his world upside down.

“Onii-chan, what’s wrong?”

Killua looked up to see Alluka standing with Shoot in the doorway, rubbing her eye with the sleeve of her pajamas, still bleary with sleep.

 “What happened?” Shoot’s asked, brow crinkled with concern. “We could hear Knuckle yelling all the way from upstairs.”

“Alluka and I have to go.” Killua replied grimly. Shoot’s expression hardened and he nodded in understanding.

As per usual, Alluka seemed unconcerned by the serious atmosphere. She padded calmly into the room as Killua explained the situation, peering over Knuckle’s arm to read the note. Her face split into an excited grin when she finished and spotted the game chip laying on the ground.

“Is this my present?” She asked, picking it up and turning it over to see every detail.

Killua didn’t reply but she didn’t seem to notice.

“G.I., G.I….” Alluka murmured to herself. Her eyes widened in wonder—“This is Greed Island isn’t it.” 

Killua did not respond immediately. He had been willing to play along with Hisoka’s interventions thus far because the clown’s actions had not been too at odds with his own goals. But Greed Island? That was too much. While it was a quick way to teleport away from Illumi, the island was fraught with danger in a way that the normal world was not. Even he and Gon would have been crushed had Bisky not been gracious enough to take them under her wing.

Alluka was not even a fighter. At her insistence, he had helped her awaken her nen but she had never before had a proper teacher, and their fugitive lifestyle did not afford her much opportunity to train. As much as he wanted to believe that they could just go to Greed Island and just hide out in the wilderness, he knew Alluka would not agree to lay low in such a fascinating new place.

In their travels during past two years, Alluka had demonstrated that she was every bit as cunning and capable as any Zoldyck. Her heart may be pure but when she really wanted something, she got it. Killua could tell by the determined glimmer in her eyes going to Greed Island was not an argument he could win.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t argue anyways.

“Yeah, that’s Greed Island.” Killua said, reaching over to pluck the game out of Alluka’s fingers, “I don’t want to think about how that clown bastard got his hands on this but he’s going to be disappointed because we are not going.”

Alluka looked like someone had thrown ice water in her face. “Why not?”

“Because it is obviously a trap. I’ve told you about Greed Island before. Once you’re in, you can’t get out unless you have the card for getting out or you get the ship captain to take you. It would be really hard to escape on short notice.”

“So what?” Alluka pouted, “If something happens, Nanika can bail us out. _She_ wants to go too.”

Killua shook his head. “We can’t trust Hisoka. For all we know, Illumi could be waiting for us the moment we stepped foot in there.”

“And Nanika would send him right home.”

“I don’t want to use Nanika like that.”

“Yeah? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she _wants_ to help? She’s got a will of her own you know.” Alluka retorted. “Mr. Hisoka promised he wouldn’t let us get caught and he’s been making good on that. I don’t see why you’re being so stubborn.”

Killua sighed. “You don’t _know_ him Alluka.”

“And _you_ do?”

At that, the white-haired hunter wheeled around and placed both hands firmly on his sister’s shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Yes. I do. Hisoka is a liar and a really good one at that. You heard him the first time; he’s just dragging us around so that it’d be more fun for him when he finally does sell us out. We can’t keep blindly going along with whatever he says. I know you really want to visit Greed Island and I promise I will take you there one day but we can’t go right now. I can’t put you in danger like that. Do you understand?”

Alluka puffed out her cheeks and looked away. “Fine.” She mumbled dejectedly after a moment’s consideration.

Killua blinked and let his hands drop to his sides. He had been so sure she would resist harder than this. Maybe she was more mature than he gave her credit for.

He turned away.

Those were thoughts for a different day. For now, he had to find a way get them to away and get them away fast. More than likely, Hisoka was cutting it close on purpose to force them to use the game. There had to be an alternative though. He looked to Knuckle and Shoot, fragments of ideas already stitching themselves together into a more concrete plan. The two older hunters nodded, catching on.

“Onii-chan?” Alluka asked in a small voice, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Killua acknowledged, only half paying attention.

“You know I love you a lot right?”

Killua paused. “Yeah and I love you too.”

“I—I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for everything you’ve done for me but sometimes,” She swallowed, the words sticking in her throat, “I feel like I never got away.”

All thoughts of escape died as Alluka’s words pierced his chest like a sliver of ice. “What do you mean?”

“I—“ Alluka gulped again, “You, you took me out of that house so I could be free right? So that I could live my life without being controlled by Illu-nii and dad?”

Killua nodded, wary.

“Then why is it that everything we do is controlled by what Illu-nii does? You told me that you weren’t scared of him anymore but you obviously still are. I know you’re just looking out for me but I don’t want to—I can’t—live like this forever.”

At her words, Killua reeled back like he’d been slapped. A defensive anger welled up in his throat. Did she think he enjoyed living like this? No! He wanted nothing more than to take her on adventures and show her all the bright and beautiful things world had to offer without having to hide in the shadows. And he would! If Illumi weren’t a constant threat—he inhaled shakily. Oh god, she was right.

The sound of Knuckle’s voice drew him back to reality.

“Look guys,” Knuckle offered, tone cautious, “I’m sure there’s a lot of background I’m not understanding here but we can’t afford to have this conversation now. Your crazy jackass of a brother is going to be here in a few minutes and, as much as it sucks to be on the run all the time, I don’t think it’s a good idea to fight him unprepared. Me and Shoot are going to support you guys in any way we can but we need to move, now.”

“Knuckle’s right. We need to get you guys out of here before—“ The rest of Shoot’s words died in his throat as a dark and powerful aura suddenly erupted in the distance, far enough away that they were not yet in its range, but close enough to make the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.

Time was up.

“Joystation! We need a Joystation right now!” Killua yelled, eyes darting around the small living room as though one would materialize if he just looked hard enough.

“We don’t own one but the arcade down the street probably does.” Knuckle replied, dashing to survey the situation from the front door.

In the second between the appearance of Illumi’s aura and Knuckle’s reply, Shoot had swept Alluka into his Hotel Rafflesia and was already flying out the back door, nen blazing.

Killua understood. With Illumi’s powerful En, stealth was futile. The only option left was to get to Greed Island before Illumi caught up with them. The air around him crackled with white-hot electricity as he activated God-Speed. He cast one last concerned glance at Knuckle, whose bulky silhouette filled the front door like a human barricade.

The muscled hunter saw his worry and grinned reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me. This is nothing compared to dealing with the royal guard. Just focus on getting away and leave the rest to us.”

Killua wished he could believe it, he really did. But the image of Illumi standing over Knuckle’s bloodied corpse burned infectious in his mind, turning his feet to lead. Knowing Illumi, he’d kill both Knuckle and Shoot out of a misplaced sense of revenge if nothing else. Maybe it was a better idea to send Alluka on ahead while he stayed to bargain—

“Oi, Killua, stop overthinking things. I can smell your brain burning from here.” Knuckle said, snapping his fingers in Killua’s face for good measure. “Shoot and I have been kicking ass since before you could walk; you don’t have to feel responsible for us. I know Gon was the only one you were really close to but you’ve got to remember that we’re your friends too. You saved my life back in that fight against Youpi. I’ll feel bad if you don’t let me return the favor, ya know?”

Killua swallowed thickly. “Fine, but promise me you won’t die trying to be a hero. Avoid fighting Illumi if you can and tell him where I’m going if he asks. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Fine, fine.” Knuckle crowed, full of bravado. “Now get going before I knock you out and carry you out myself.”

Killua nodded and with a flash of lightening, he was gone.

* * *

 

Hisoka whistled in appreciation as Illumi's en unfolded to its full range. The Zoldyck family had always boasted amazing individuals but Illumi was extraordinary even by their standards. From their vantage point fifty stories above the ground, Illumi's En easily encompassed half a mile in every direction. Nothing, dead or alive, within its range could escape the assassin’s scrutiny. 

Naturally, Killua's electric aura was not present; Hisoka made sure of that. Zaban was a large metropolis with a high population density and even Illumi’s impressive En could not comb every crook and cranny in a time effective manner.

Illumi had spent the previous night alternating between open interrogation and surreptitious baiting to try and make him divulge more specific details about Killua’s whereabouts. And with good reason. Using En advertised one’s own location like a light house on a cliff. Illumi had probably hoped to not have to use it until he knew Killua was within range. But that was the exact opposite of what Hisoka needed him to do.

Hisoka smirked from where he crouched by Illumi’s side. It had taken a good deal of willpower to resist some of Illumi’s more _seductive_ offers but he had feigned ignorance to the bitter end. Lying came as naturally as breathing to a gifted transmuter like him, but Illumi had instincts like a hawk. Though he could prove nothing, the assassin remained suspicious even now, which only raised Hisoka’s opinion of him. The gullible were so very boring to play with after all.

The magician cast a glance to the east where Knuckle and Shoot’s safe-house was located. He had managed to convince Illumi to begin his search in the downtown area as that was where most of the hotels were located. As it were though, they were only a ten-minute run from the safe-house. If everything went smoothly, he could buy Killua a little more time by directing Illumi towards a few dead ends before the assassin would eventually find the safe-house. If Killua and company were to panic and reveal themselves though… things would get interesting much sooner.

A moment passed and nothing happened.

Hisoka tucked a stray strand of hair back into its place. The long game it was. How disappointing. He was about to suggest that they go west south first when, three auras suddenly flared to life in the east, standing out in the sea of commoners like bon fires among candles. Before Hisoka could say a word, Illumi was gone.

The assassin’s silken hair flowed behind him like a black river as he darted from roof to roof, feet so nimble and silent that Hisoka wonder if they made landfall at all. They ran without speaking, passing the city in a blur. Illumi had collapsed his En but even without it, it was easy to track the three auras. Two of them had separated and were moving quickly further east. The third had situated itself squarely in their path, blocking their way. They could try to go around it if they wanted to but neither Hisoka nor Illumi were the type to avoid conflict, both preferring to blast through obstacles rather than take detours.

They were almost upon the obstacle when Killua’s aura suddenly winked out of existence. Illumi’s steps faltered. Hisoka fought the urge to grin as Illumi’s En exploded outwards again, turbulent with rage. Confusion flashed across Illumi’s face as he detected nothing. Indeed, it was as though Killua’s body had disappeared along with his aura.

“Go on.” Hisoka called out as they neared the person blocking their path. “I’ll take care of this one. You go find your brother.”

Illumi gave the tiniest of nods to indicate that he’d heard. Upon clearing a particularly cumbersome cathedral, they finally saw the source of the third aura: a shirtless man with white pants and brash grin. The man’s face scowled as Illumi shot by like a bullet, unheeding of his presence.

“Hey, don’t ignore me you bastard!” Knuckle screamed at Illumi’s retreating back. His next insult stuck in his throat when a new and sinister aura bloomed behind him.

“Don’t feel down. I’m more than happy to play with you~”

Knuckle felt an unpleasant shiver creep down his spine and he turned slowly. Of course he had expected that Hisoka would show up but out of their little household, he was the only one who had never met the clown in person. Between Killua’s cautionary tales, Alluka’s stubborn praises, and Shoot’s reserved impressions, Hisoka sounded like a loose cannon. Knuckled felt cold sweat roll down his scalp as he took in the malicious storm that was the magician’s aura. A very dangerous loose cannon.

“What do you want?” Knuckle barked, resisting the urge to back away.

Hisoka smiled, a caricature of pleasantness. “Oh I think you know. Your friends would be awfully cruel to leave you in the dark about something so important.”

“Oh, they’ve told me plenty about you alright.”

“Really? What did they say?”

Knuckle frowned at the interruption. “That you’re a liar and a creep. Now, give me one good reason I shouldn’t bash your face in for all the shit you’ve done.”

Hisoka laughed, “Well’s that’s not untrue. Though if you’re convinced I’m a liar, then it doesn’t matter what I tell you because you won’t believe me anyways, correct?”

Knuckle cursed under his breath as he realized the catch-22 he’d unwittingly set up. Talking to Hisoka was proving to be a bad idea. Not even a minute in and Hisoka was already having him eat his own words.

The clown reminded him of the bastard rat in the Zodiac, Pariston Hill, in that both of them boasted deadly prowess on the battlefield but preferred instead to lead their enemies in infuriating circles until they were tripping over their own feet. And though Knuckle was often accused of being reckless, he was not stupid. He knew that Hisoka had him beat in every way and he was not above running away from a hopeless fight.

The ground tremored as a sudden explosion sent shockwaves through the air, snapping the white-clad hunter out of his thoughts. His heart skipped a beat as a chorus of panicked screams reached his ears. _Shoot._

“Oh, looks like Illumi found your little friend.” Hisoka crooned, confirming Knuckle’s fears. “Poor thing, running up against Illu when Illu’s so mad. That’s not a pretty way to die.”

Knuckle felt like his stomach drop like a stone. Forget Hisoka. The clown was dangerous but it didn’t feel like he was out for blood. If Killua’s horror stories about his oldest brother were to be trusted, however, then Shoot was in serious trouble. Between playing mind games with Hisoka and helping Shoot, Shoot took priority.

Ignoring the rational part of his brain, Knuckle turned his back towards Hisoka and began sprinting in the direction of the arcade as fast as his feet could carry him. He made it ten steps before something sticky and elastic wrapped around his ankle, yanking his feet out from under him.

So much for thinking he could just run away from his pink-haired problem.

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Hisoka chided as he reeled Knuckle in with a crook of his finger, depositing him in an undignified heap at his feet. “As tragic as it is to lose a someone as talented as Shoot, I can’t have you charging in there and blowing my cover. You know much too much.”

Knuckle scowled and pushed himself off the ground. The long scratches on his chest stun as he brushed away the tiny bits of gravel digging into his skin. “You’re talking about Killua right? How you’re the one tipping him off?”

Hisoka nodded.

“Well, rest assured, your secret is safe with me. Let me go help Shoot and I promise I won’t tell your demon boyfriend you’re pulling a fast one on him.” Another series of small explosions rang out and Knuckle felt his heart speed up. “Please.”

The magician hummed, eyes narrowing with mirth. “You’re so honest it’s a wonder you’re not an Enhancer. But that’s all the more reason I can’t let you go. Illumi would figure everything out in a second if you just walk over there unscathed.” He held up a hand to silence Knuckle’s protest, “But if I fight you and _lose…”_ he trailed off, letting the implication of his statement sink in.

Knuckle’s eyes widened as Hisoka’s intentions became clear. Taking Hisoka on in a serious one-on-one fight was suicide. APR was not useful as a weapon in most fights, especially not against something like Bungee Gum. Given the clown’s reputation amongst the elite hunter circle, Knuckle wasn’t sure he knew anyone that stood a one hundred percent chance of winning against Hisoka. If Hisoka lost his nen though…that would be an entirely different scenario.

Knuckle didn’t know how Hisoka had learned about his nen-suppressing powers but it was clear the clown wanted him to use it. It made sense. As a double agent, a loss on Hisoka’s part would look a lot less suspicious if he were unable to use his nen. Knuckle exhaled hard. Forcing a murderer like Hisoka into zetsu for thirty days was good for almost everybody but it would spell a death sentence for the clown. Just off the top of his head—Knuckle could name a good many powerful people who would leap at a golden opportunity to finish Hisoka off, and, as much as he hated people who played with the lives of others, he didn’t hate Hisoka enough to wish him dead.

Hisoka waited, tapping his foot impatiently as Knuckle wrestled with his thoughts.

“You won't be able to use your nen for a month. You're OK with that?” Knuckle warned.

Hisoka cocked an eyebrow, “Your friend is out there fighting for his life. Are you sure you should be worrying about me?”

Knuckle grit his teeth but didn't object further. He didn’t want to kill anyone if he could help it, but if Hisoka wanted to commit suicide, far be it from him to stop him.

Besides, Hisoka was right. The sooner he finished this fight, the sooner he could get back to Shoot who was risking life and limb to hold off Killua’s psychotic brother. The shirtless hunter clenched his fists, fixing Hisoka with a look of determination. If a beating was what Hisoka wanted, it would be his pleasure to deliver.

Knuckle nearly jumped out of his skin when Hisoka moaned suddenly, easily one of the most obscene sounds he’d ever heard in his life. He watched in horror as the clown reached down, openly palming at the tented fabric at the front of his pants.

“God, it turns me on when you look at me like that ~” Hisoka crowed, smiling predatorily, “Now, my limit is around fourteen thousand. You get a fifteen second head start.”

 Knuckle forced himself to tear from the lewd display and began furiously calculating how hard and often he’d have to hit to lend fourteen thousand aura in so little time. He knew Hisoka was a monster but this was just ridiculous.

“Ready?” The magician asked, licking his lips.

Knuckle nodded.

Hisoka spread his arms, an invitation. “Aim well.”

Scarcely had the words left his mouth when a fist drove hard into his jaw. The salty tang of blood burst in his mouth as the inside of his cheek from the impact. A ceaseless flurry of blows followed, peppering his torso and knocking the air out of him before his head could even stop ringing. Knuckle was a well trained and experienced fighter, and it showed in the way his every movement flowed seamlessly into the next; every blow precise, nary a movement wasted.

True to his word, Hisoka didn’t lift a finger in defense, limply allowing his body to be knocked this way and that by the bombardment. Curiously, he realized that even though he was not using Ren to shield himself, he could feel the pressure of each blow but very little pain. And the hits came fast and without break, a punch to his face followed efficiently by a knee in his stomach and a sharp crack to his spine. The beating was almost nostalgic, taking him back to the days before he realized his own power and realized that he could defend himself.

In the back of his mind, Hisoka was dimly aware of APR rattling off the debt each blow accumulated. The floating nen mascot had swollen to rather intimidating dimensions, approaching the size of a small parade balloon. At ten seconds, it tittered cutely that it was adding interest and expanded again. The number on its forehead read eleven thousand.

Almost there.

The pain that hit like a tidal wave before Hisoka could register APR’s explosion. The borrowed aura padding his body from Knuckle’s rampage was gone and his body screamed as it registered all the damage all at once. Knuckle leapt back to a safe distance as Hisoka collapsed to his hands and knees, torso heaving in pain as he drew a torturous breath. He coughed twice, spitting a mixture of blood and bile into the dust.

It had been a long time since Hisoka felt his consciousness blink in and out from pain and he welcomed it like an old friend. The agony filled his mind with a smog of reflexive anger. _Kill,_ it ordered, coloring his vision red. _You’re stronger than him, tear him apart._

Knuckle took a step back in alarm when Hisoka’s head snapped up, yellow eyes glowing with feral intent. Before he could even register that Hisoka had moved, the clown had his arm in an iron grasp, squeezing hard enough to make his bones creak and splinter. The last thought that passed through Knuckle’s mind before Hisoka brought his knee crashing against his elbow, snapping his arm in half, was that he was a fool to think Hisoka would be manageable without his nen. Sealing the magician’s nen did not disarm the beast; it just made him angry.

He’d been a fool. Knuckle thought as he felt his ribs cracked from the impact of Hisoka’s unfortified fist. Hisoka had not actually said anything about letting him go. The clown had masterfully danced around the issue, letting Knuckle fool himself with his own misguided conclusions.

Knuckle closed his eyes as Hisoka’s hand closed around his throat, sharp nails cutting into the sensitive skin as he constricted. In the end, Shoot was right. The other hunter was always berating him for being too soft, too easily moved and too gullible. All this time, he had brushed his friend’s words off, confidant that he would never regret making the more compassionate choice. That was a mistake. He should have killed Hisoka when he had the chance but he didn’t and now both he and Shoot were going to die.

 _I’m sorry Killua,_ Knuckle thought as he fought the blackness encroaching on his vision. _I’m not going to be able to keep my promise._ The world slipped away.

Hisoka stepped back as he let Knuckle’s unconscious body tumble face down on the dusty ground. He crouched

“Sleep well,” Hisoka murmured, eyeing the rise and fall of the unconscious hunter’s chest, “Try to understand. Illu is not nearly as merciful as me. You wouldn’t have stand a chance. I’ll do my best to save your friend; come get him when this is all over.”

 

* * *

 

Illumi was fighting blind.

In his rage at Killua’s inexplicable disappearance, he had failed to notice the concealed hunter lying in ambush in the arcade he’d traced Killua to. A disembodied pair of green-tinged hands was the last thing he’d seen before everything went black.

Losing his eyes was his own fault, really. He should have known better than to let his emotions get the better of him. Hisoka had even told him that Killua had friends to help him and had given him a brief run down on their personalities and what he knew about their nen. Considering the stealthy nature of the ambush, he was probably fighting against the self-professed coward, Shoot.

Illumi frowned as rubbed at the strangely empty spot where his eyes should be. Without his vision, his ranged attacks would be less accurate but his opponent was still free to take shots from a distance. That wouldn’t change the outcome of the fight, ultimately, but it could make it drag on irritatingly long.

The tell-tale swish of fabric was the only warning Illumi had before Shoot attacked from his left. He dodged right, sandwiching himself between a pile of rubble and a wall to protect his open back.

The middle of a fight was not the best time to start reflecting on poor life decisions but Illumi was really beginning to regret not taking his sensory deprivation more seriously as a kid. At the time, it had been rather unthinkable to him that anybody was strong enough to blind a Zoldyck. Karma was a bitch.

Illumi held his breath behind his makeshift barrier, listening intently for any sound of attack. Hisoka had said that Shoot was a manipulator that specialized in manipulating objects instead of people. Judging by the combination attacks, there were two projectiles—likely the hands that took his eyes—actively attacking. The fact that Shoot was somehow _flying,_ however, was a good indication that there was a third object, likely being used as a hover board.

A faint hiss of air caught Illumi’s attention and he ducked, narrowly dodging the fist that was aimed for his face. Dust and debris showered over his back as the fist crashed through the wall behind him.

Illumi leapt forward, taking advantage of the dust cover to sprint towards the mall he remembered seeing on the north side of the square. While he was fully capable of hitting moving targets whilst blindfolded, flying targets were annoyingly agile and he had a limited number of needles. To end this quickly, he’d need an enclosed space and bait.

The black-haired assassin released a powerful pulse of nen to thwart the nen-controlled hands pursuing him from the air. Truth be told, he could easily kill Shoot using just his nen. But as the saying went, dead men told no tales. Barely-alive, brain controlled ones did though. And as much as he despised wasting energy on pointless fighting, if a little extra effort was what it took to wean his dependence on Hisoka’s information, he was willing to make the sacrifice.

Besides, this fight was a good opportunity to test out the new manipulation technique he’d been developing. The idea had occurred to him after a body guard with a particularly nasty ability had made a mess of his last job. (He’d still killed the target, of course, but cleanup had cost a small fortune.) It had been so intuitive that Illumi was astounded he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He and every manipulator in the world used nen to control people’s bodies by hijacking their minds. Why should he not be able to hijack their nen as well?

A faint echo in his footsteps alerted Illumi to quickly approaching wall but he did not slow, raising his arms to guard his head instead as he slammed through the wall as though it were made of rice paper instead of brick.

His explosive entrance was met with a chorus of screams. As he thought, some of the people from the square had taken refuge in the mall to avoid the fighting outside. What fools they were for thinking a thin wall was enough to keep them safe. 

Illumi sent a few needles flying into the noisy throng, spearing the loudest of the screamers. Needlemen were not very effective at actual combat when up against strong opponents but they made for great distractions. In his experience, only the most heartless of murderers were able to cut down what appeared to be innocent people in cold blood. A moment’s of hesitation from Shoot was all he needed to win.

With a wave of his hand, Illumi scattered the needlemen, sending half to guard the inside door and the others to the hole he had made in the wall. There was no street side entrance to the store he had broken into so, unless Shoot was willing to make a violent entrance like he had, he would come through one of the two entrances. A brash fighter, overconfident in his own abilities and unconcerned by traps, would charge in through the hole in the wall. A smarter, more cautious one would circle around to find another entrance and try to catch him unawares. Illumi was willing bet money that Shoot was the latter. Not that it mattered.

From the inside of his jacket, Illumi retrieved three of his largest needles, the ones meant for instant incapacitation, and infused them with paralyzing intent. Under normal circumstances, a single needle would have been enough. Given with his lack of sight and Shoot’s demonstrable skill, though, it was safer to overcompensate. In the best case scenario, the needle meant for Shoot’s head would find its mark and he would bring him under in control immediately. Otherwise, he just had to make sure one of the other two hit and let his nen do the rest of the work. Either way, victory was guaranteed.

Illumi ducked underneath the checkout counter to wait. 

A minute ticked by in heavy silence before the needlemen near the door began to shuffle about, nosing at the air like undead hounds. Illumi stopped breathing and focused his attention into his hearing. Despite having strained his senses to their limits, he could detect nothing but the uncoordinated bumbling of his puppets. Begrudgingly, the assassin had to admit that he was impressed. Very few people in the world were able to conceal their presence from a Zoldyck. But…as much as it irked him that Shoot was one of those people, it was somewhat of a relief to know that the people Killua called friends were not wholly incompetent.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the needlemen suddenly attack, swarming to the door like lemmings. Underneath the flurry of activity, Shoot’s sharp breath of surprise was almost inaudible but it was just the sign Illumi had been waiting for. In one fluid movement, the assassin slid out from his hiding spot and let his needles fly, guided by nothing but faint sound shadows and a lifetime of training. 

There were two dull crashes and a wet thud as two of the needles landed harmlessly in the wall while the third buried itself in Shoot’s chest. 

The effect was immediate. Shoot crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut, Illumi’s paralyzing nen having rendered his limbs useless. He gurgled wetly for breath as blood flooded into his punctured lung.

Illumi straightened, all semblance of concealment abandoned as he made his way slowly to the fallen hunter’s side. He could still feel and hear Shoot squirming on the ground, straining against his control like a fish against a net. A valiant but futile effort. The cowardly hunter had fought admirably but a little child’s play did nothing to mitigate the yawning chasm of between him and Illumi in terms of nen ability and raw power.

 _Be still,_ Illumi mentally commanded, quashing the last of Shoot’s opposition.

“I’ll be brief; where is Killua?” Illumi asked, reaching out with his nen.

“No idea.” Shoot ground out through grit teeth. He gasped in pain as a pulse of Illumi’s nen poured through the needle like concentrated acid, corroding at his own aura as it forced its way through his body.  

“Let’s try again.” Illumi said, patient, “Where is Killua?”

“I don’t know.”

Illumi’s aura spiked again, harder this time.

Shoot screamed.

“Lying is pointless. Tell me where Killua is and I will grant you a quick death.” Illumi stated as he probed deeper with his nen. He already commanded control of much of Shoot’s aura but for some reason, he had yet to tap into the hunter’s nen ability. There was a dense knot of aura around Shoot’s heart that was suspiciously resistant to his influence though.

Shoot’s breathes rattled as he struggled to inhale through the blood. “Fuck you.” He managed at last.

His gut-wrenching cry echoed through the corridor as Illumi released another powerful pulse of aura, aiming at the knot of aura at his core.

Illumi frowned when it still did not give. Nothing was going his way today. He withdrew another needle from the inside of his jacket and waved it threateningly in front of Shoot’s glazed eyes. “I could just take the answer from you. Is protecting Killua really worth losing your mind?" 

“Killua risked his life to save mine. I’d die for him twenty time over.” Shoot answered, smiling defiantly though he knew Illumi could not see. “But I guess you wouldn’t understand how it feels to actually care about him would you.”

A sudden wave of agony, far greater than anything he’d felt up prior, crashed over Shoot, hard enough that he could feel his mind dissociating from his body. Illumi’s anger burned like molten lava, scorching hot as it surged through his veins. Dimly, Shoot was aware of the strain in his throat, screaming, but the roar of pain was louder than everything, drowning out all other sensation until the world was nothing but pain as though nothing else had ever existed. Somewhere deep inside, the last of his defenses gave away.

Illumi blinked as the last Shoot’s nen cracked at last, returning his eyes.

He looked down, seeing the purple-clad hunter for the first time. Shoot’s body was limp, eyes glassy and unseeing where they peered out from beneath his half closed eyelids. His already pale skin, shiny with sweat, had taken on the sallow complexion of wax.

Illumi held his needle to Shoot’s clammy forehead. If he wanted information, he’d have to act quickly.

“Illumi, wait. You don't have to do that.”

Illumi paused at the sound of his name. He turned, raising an eyebrow at Hisoka's battered appearance. “And why is that?”

“The other one caved.” Hisoka lied, “He says Killua went to Greed Island.”

“Is that so?” Illumi raised his needle again, hovering above Shoot's head “I’d feel better if I heard that for myself from another source.”

Hisoka’s yellow eyes narrowed. “I haven't led you wrong these last two times, why the sudden suspicion?”

“Why are you trying so stop me from confirming for myself?" 

“I'm just trying to look out for you. Killing Shoot isn't going to win you points with Killua when he finds out. It'll be hard enough to convince him to go home with you without giving him more reasons to hate you.”

“Killua doesn't need to _agree_ to come home.” Illumi hissed angrily.

“Oh, you know that’s not true.” Hisoka smiled, “You don’t need his consent to lock him up forever but you’ll have to be a little more persuasive if you want him to take on an active role in the family. I won’t stop you if you’re dead set on it but I’m telling you, killing Shoot is going to be counterproductive at best.”

Illumi huffed in displeasure but tucked the needle back into his jacket. Hisoka was right. The way things were, he was more than capable of dragging Killua home. Convincing the young heir to actually take over the family would be much more difficult though. Killua had already made it clear that fear was no longer a strong enough incentive for obedience and with Nanika’s power behind him, there was little he even had to be afraid of. 

“Fine,” Illumi conceded, “Let’s go to Greed Island then.”

 “About that…”, Hisoka smiled sheepishly and gestured to the small purple imp hanging off his shoulder, “It would appear I am currently unable to use nen. Seeing as Greed Island is a nen based game, I won’t be able to go until I get my nen back. ”

“What happened.”

Hisoka turned away, careful to maintain an air of casual nonchalance. “Turns out Knuckle could force people into Zetsu by punching them. It’s been so long since I had a good fight that I got carried away and took one too many hits. Can you blame me? I can still fight though so it’s not a big problem.”

To the untrained observer, the slight tension in Hisoka’s normally relaxed posture would have gone unnoticed but Illumi had become something of an expert at deciphering Hisoka’s subtle deceptions these days.  The draw in the magician’s shoulders, the set of his jaw, and the tension in his biceps all came together like a confession.

“You’re afraid.” Illumi marveled.

The slight widening of Hisoka’s eyes gave him away.

“You’ve never been without your nen before have you?” A rhetorical question. His research regarding Hisoka’s background had turned up little but one of the few useful tidbits of information had been able to uncover was the fact that Hisoka had access to nen since early childhood.

Hisoka’s smile faded, confirming his suspicions.

“That’s none of your business Illu. I can take care of myself.”

“Like you ‘took care’ of Knuckle? You’ll be dead before the by the end of the week. How many people want to kill you?” That was another rhetorical question. Off the top of his head, Illumi could compile quite a list of people who would want the magician dead, including but not restricted to several members of Phantom troupe, a floor master from Heaven’s Arena, one of the mafia families, and at least one of the Zodiacs.

“Well, the one most likely to succeed is you. What point is there in thinking of the others? Are you going to go after Killua by yourself?”

“Depends.” Illumi replied, refusing to be sidetracked, “How long are you going to be defenseless?”

Hisoka froze at Illumi’s wording, suddenly feeling the need to put more distance between himself and the assassin. His instincts began to scream in alarm when he tried to take a step back and found that his legs like lead. So this was what it felt like to fall prey to Illumi’s persuasion. 

“Answer my question Hisoka.” Illumi pressed, voice a hypnotizing rumble as he walked closer, slowly closing the gap between them.   

 “Thirty days.” Hisoka heard himself say without meaning to. 

Hisoka’s felt his heartbeat quicken as Illumi’s twined around his shoulders like a boa constrictor, cutting off all hope of escape. Up close, the blank-faced assassin looked even more like a doll, dark hair cascading around skin as pale and flawless as fine porcelain. Hisoka couldn’t help but shudder when Illumi pulled him in closer still until the dark pools of the assassin’s eyes was all he could see. Lost in the inky depths of Illumi’s eyes, the prick on the side of his neck was barely noticeable. The last thought that passed through Hisoka’s mind before the darkness consumed him was that dying Illumi’s arms wouldn't be half bad.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha, let us not forget that Hisoka and Illumi are actually terrible people. 
> 
> Come talk to me at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sphericallyadept


	5. Zoldyck Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys were excited for Greed Island but this little interlude is going to have to come first. Sorry!
> 
> Also, note that the rating has gone up.

Hisoka awoke to an unfamiliar stone ceiling. The large slabs of black granite were pockmarked with age but looked sturdy nonetheless, joined together so tightly that not nary a razor blade could be pressed into the seams.

Hisoka blinked a few times to clear his eyes. He was laying on something soft, and judging by the stiffness in his joints, he’d likely been lying in the same position for quite some time. The inside of his throat felt scratchy like sandpaper but there was no saliva to swallow. It took his sluggish brain a second to remember how to move his body, but gradually, sensation returned to his limbs as his brain registered their existence again and he wiggled his toes, just to make sure he still could. Dimly, Hisoka was aware that he was not alone.

“You’re awake.”

Hisoka turned his head to look at Illumi, the bones in his neck creaking in protest. “How long—“ he swallowed, attempting, and failing, to moisten his parched vocal chords, “How long was I asleep?” he finally rasped out with some effort.

Illumi held up three fingers. “Three days. Give or take.”

Hisoka blew a huff of air through his nose, too tired to laugh. Three days was enough time for someone with Illumi’s capabilities to do anything. He ran his hands slowly over his torso, pressing down in vital spots to make sure he wasn’t missing anything important and there wasn’t anything inside him that shouldn’t be. His abused ribs throbbed from the pressure but the pain helped to clear the malaise clouding his head so he welcomed it like an old friend.

Satisfied that there were no unpleasant surprises, Hisoka pushed himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the edge of the narrow bed. He took a moment to look around the small room they were in. The walls of the room were made of the same black granite as the ceiling and were bare, save for a single lantern hanging on a hook in the corner. The furnishings were slightly less spartan, consisting of a small wooden desk with a matching a chair, the bed he was sitting on, and an antique looking porcelain sink bolted to the opposite wall. From where he was sitting, he could see a toothbrush and a few other basic toiletries sitting on the sink. Next to the sink, an opening with no door led to what Hisoka could only assume was a bathroom. The door leading out was made of heavy steel, solid except for a small slit at eye level and a slot near the bottom for sliding food in. Hisoka didn’t need to ask to know that it would be locked.

There were no windows. 

“Do you lock all your guests in the dungeon? I’m assuming we’re in your house.” Hisoka asked, mildly annoyed.

Illumi’s face betrayed nothing. “It’s for your own safety. No one can kill you here—”

“Except you.” Hisoka interrupted. “But if I’m still alive that means you don’t want to kill me. At least, not yet.”

 “There are some things I’m still curious about. I would appreciate it if you choose be cooperative.” Illumi admitted.

Hisoka smiled, coy. “Does your family know I’m here?”

“Naturally. Mother can see everything and grandfather was the one who prepared this cell. You can try to escape if you really want but the walls and the door are reinforced with grandfather’s Dragon Jail. I don’t suggest doing anything rash. Especially since you don’t have aura to protect you.”

“And your dad?” Hisoka asked, eyes narrowing. He had expected that Illumi would try to keep him a secret but the assassin didn’t seem to be lying.

“Father’s away on a job.” Illumi answered after a moment’s hesitation.

“My, my, waiting until the head of the house is away before sneaking a serpent into the house huh? I’m impressed, Illu; I didn’t think you had it in you.” Hisoka taunted. “What did you tell your mother and grandfather?”

“I told them I’m keeping you for interrogation. They trust me enough to not to question it.”

Hisoka nodded, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and rest his chin in his hands. “They still don’t know what you’re doing then?”

Illumi’s eyes narrowed. He’d pushed too far.

“That’s none of your business.” The assassin said, curt, as he reached up and removed the lantern from its hook. With a snap of his fingers, he extinguished the flame, plunging the room into a darkness so thick it could be cut with a knife.

There was a metallic clink and the squealing of hinges as Illumi opened the door and stepped out, taking the lantern with him. Hisoka did nothing as the door was locked once again.

“I’ll be gone on a job for a few days but I’ll come see you when I’m done.” Illumi said, voice muffled by the metal barrier, “A butler will bring your meals but they’ve been instructed not to interact with you in any way, and they can’t open the door so don’t think you can use them to escape.”

Hisoka was almost grateful for the darkness that hid his face as a mild panic he knew all too well began to nag at the edge of his mind.

 

There was no way Illumi knew, he consoled himself.  He hadn't just left the worst of his past behind, he had destroyed all evidence of it; left it a bloody wreckage to be swallowed by the shifting sands of the Yorbian desert. Everything and everyone that had been in that part of his life were gone. This confinement was nothing but an unhappy coincidence.

 

All things considered, imprisonment and sensory deprivation wasn't nearly as bad as the torture that Illumi _could have_ dished up, Hisoka reasoned. He had known and accepted the risks when he asked Knuckle to lock down his nen, and the fact that he was in the Zoldyck manor while Illumi was _not_ on Greed Island was a win for him. All that was left was to bide his time until the opportunity afforded itself for him to make his next move.

 

Hisoka ran his hand through his hair and grimaced at the texture of the days old hair gel crusting in his unwashed hair. Pushing himself off the bed with a wince of pain, he shuffled stiffly in the direction of the bathroom, counting his steps to begin making a mental map of his little cell.

  
Groping along the bathroom wall, Hisoka was pleasantly surprised to find a towel hanging from a towel bar next to a robe that felt like it was made from clouds. On the floor of the shower stood a neat line of shampoo and soap bottles.  

So Illumi was angry with him, but not that angry.

Hisoka gingerly stripped off his battle-torn clothes, discarding them in a pile in the floor. He didn’t bother getting dressed again after the shower.

Once the nightmares and hallucinations started, nothing within reach that wasn’t made out of stone or steel was likely make it out intact and it would be a shame to destroy a robe as nice as the one Illumi gave him. At least, in the dark, there would be no one to witness the effects of his madness.

Upon returning to the main room of his cell, Hisoka noted with vague interest that the air smelled of bread meat. A butler must have brought food while he had been showering. Despite not having eaten in days, he did not feel particularly hungry, but he forced himself to eat as much as he could stand. In his weakened state, going without food would only disadvantage him further and there was no telling when he would next feel fit to eat.

Satisfied that his bodily needs were met, Hisoka ambled back to the bed and laid down. He may have already slept for days but sleep was the easiest way to pass the time in the dark. It was hard to tell when the darkness of the room was replaced by the darkness of unconsciousness but eventually, sleep came, and with it dreams.

* * *

 

Hisoka, six years old, squirmed impatiently under the brush of the circus’ old makeup crone. Tonight was his first show and he was rightfully a little nervous. Rondulo, the two-faced ringmaster who could charm the devil but smelled like hell, had promised to let him see his mother again if he could please the crowd. At the time, Hisoka still did not understand why his mother had done nothing to stop the strange men from taking him away but that did little to dampen his childish desire to be reunited with her.

His mother was not the kindest of parents but, in Meteor City where orphans lined the streets like weeds, he was proud that he had her. Their life together in the dump was far from idyllic. “Home” was no more than a makeshift shelter assembled from cardboard and rusty sheets of tin and food being hard to come by most days, but they had managed to scraped a living by foraging for and selling anything of worth in the mountains of garbage. On the nights when she didn’t send him away to make room for strangers, she let him sleep curled by her side for warmth. Those nights were his favorite.

Everything changed the day he discovered the sticky pink bubble gum that he could pull out of his hands, and had rushed to show her in childish excitement. His mom had a strange look on her face when he demonstrated the way he could use it to move objects without touching them. In his naiveté, he had mistaken the opportunistic gleam in her eyes for pride.  

Rondulo ducked into the tent, face contorted in displeasure. “Hurry the fuck up, he’s on in five.” He barked at the crone. She huffed in irritation but gave Hisoka a pat on the back, sending him on his way. Hisoka hopped off the tall stool and ran to follow the ringmaster into the spotlight.

The show that night went well. As had the one after that. And the one after that.

Night after night, Hisoka faced the crowds with a smile on his face, using his pink gum to juggle objects and acrobats in midair. By now, he was aware that nobody, not even Rondulo, could see the pink strings. “Magic!” Rondulo announced to the audience and Hisoka felt himself swell with pride. He was more than a street urchin and a burden. He was a _magician_.

And yet, days bled into weeks and weeks became months. Yet, despite the constant adoration of the audience, there was no mention of his mother.

The night his inquiry was met with a slap so hard his ears rang was the night he knew that he would never see his mother again.

Hisoka opened his eyes to a painful gnawing in his stomach but he could see nothing. He sat up, raising his hand to touch his tingling cheek. A dream? No, his cheek did indeed feel swollen and the painful welts that crisscrossed his back were real too. The ground beneath his palms was cold metal. The box again. The sound of a muffled conversation filtered in from the outside and he turned towards it, though he could see nothing.

“He’s in solitary again? What’d he do this time?”

“That lil son-of-a-bitch almost killed Grenadine. Threw a knife off course on purpose ‘n stuck her in the right in the shoulder.”

“Shit. So that’s why we’re packing up early. I can’t believe the boss still puts him in shows after all the shit he’s pulled.”

There was a thud as something heavy was set down none too gently.

“Yeah, well you know damn well why he’s still performing. This here circus don’t got many big money attractions like him. But if it were up to me though, I wouldn’t risk it. Gotta nip threats in the bud ya get me? I vote we slit that little psycho’s throat first chance ‘n dump his thankless ass in a gutter.”

_Shut up._

“Now, now, don’t say that. That boy may be handful but I still wouldn’t mind getting me a handful of that if you know what I mean.”

_SHUT UP!_

Hisoka clapped both hands over his ears to block out the raucous laughter that followed the crude joke and drew his knees into his chest, rocking back and forth with helpless rage. One of these days, he repeated in his mind, one of these days he would break out of their hands, and when he did, there would be hell to pay. In the dark, it was impossible to tell how long he stayed curled in on himself, plotting his revenge

There was crowd gathered around him when Hisoka next opened his eyes.

He was still in a cage but it was significantly dirtier than the box they kept him in. He wrinkled his nose against the odor of urine and wet fur.

Hisoka looked down at his hands. They were bigger but still smaller than they would be. He was…thirteen? A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and his breath caught in his throat when he turned and saw the tiger. The large cat had only a fraction of the majesty its species usually commanded. Its fur hung dull and loose over jagged ribs as it paced back and forth but its amber eyes were clear as they locked on Hisoka in silent appraisal.

Despite the danger, Hisoka couldn’t help but sympathize with the tiger. Neither of them would be here if they had a choice. But here they were: two desperate predators forced to fight for survival, and one of them was not going to make it out alive.

As Hisoka climbed to his feet, the crowd began hooting vulgar encouragements, drunk off cheap beer and bloodlust.

Hisoka smiled as the tiger lunged. He allowed first swipe of the tiger’s claws to rake him from shoulder to hip, slamming him back against the bars. The three white-hot stripes of pain that tore down his front were a small payment for the suffering he was about to inflict. The tiger charged again, but this time, Hisoka dodged.

 

In one agile roll, he ducked out of the way and shot a string of his pink gum into the tiger’s open maw, gluing its mouth shut. The tiger thrashed its head in anger as it tried to open its mouth and couldn’t. Anger slowly morphed into confusion as it stumbled into the invisible trap of Bungee Gum Hisoka spread on the floor, gluing its paws to the ground.

 

Sure that the tiger was immobilized, Hisoka sauntered over to it and cradled its large head in his hands. This was his favorite part: the moment when the resistance in his prey’s eyes turned to despair as they realized the futility of their situation. The cheers of the audience increased to a deafening roar as Hisoka threaded his fingers through the soft fur on the tiger’s face almost lovingly before plunging his thumbs into its eye sockets and gouging out its gem-like eyes. The smell of blood added to the already putrid stink and Hisoka closed his eyes to lose himself in the sensation of muscle and skin shredding in his hands.

 

It was quiet when he next came to. Blood dripped from his hands but there was no tiger and there was no cage. A litany of freshly slaughtered human corpses lay on the ground around him, surrounded by the smoking remains of the circus caravan.

 

Hisoka couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in his throat as he surveyed the destruction around him. To think that he had thought himself weak when his body succumbed to the lashes of the steel whips of his masters when they themselves were made of straw! Human bodies were so fragile, so easy to rip apart.

 

The laughter caught in his throat as two gunshots rang out in the silence and Hisoka looked down to see two red flowers blooming across his shirt. _Funny_ , he thought as he turned to look for the gunner. He could have sworn he’d killed everyone. Ah, whatever. He would soon.

 

It was dark again, but he was not alone. A woman stood by him, pulsating with a soft iridescent glow. She was lovely by all accounts, with hair like spun gold and skin so pale to the point of translucence. An ethereal costume of flowing silk shrouded her curves, snow white where it wasn’t stained crimson with blood. Hisoka felt a strange sense of calm as he looked into the black holes of her eyes. His limbs felt like lead. 

“You’re dead.” Hisoka said finally, when it became clear she was not going to disappear.

“Yes.”

“Did I kill you?”

“Yes.”

Hisoka blew a laugh out of his nose. “I don’t regret it.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“What do you want?”

Hisoka watched with horrified fascination as the woman reached up and began to peel the flesh from her face, revealing the bloody skull underneath.

“You.” The spirit said as it grasped his arm with bloodied fingers.

Hisoka closed his eyes. 

* * *

 

The sound of the door unlocking jarred Hisoka awake. He squinted painfully against the soft yellow glow of the lantern in Illumi’s hand, the dim light too bright after so long in the darkness.

“Show me your nen.” He rasped before Illumi could say anything.  

The assassin didn’t question it. His aura quietly fill the room, swirling dark but benign.

“Satisfied?”

Hisoka nodded as he relaxed into the caustic hostility that characterized Illumi’s nen, using its unmistakable authenticity to anchor himself after so many days of hallucinations. “How long has it been?”

“Two days. The butlers tell me you haven’t been eating.” Illumi replied sounding almost concerned. He took a second to hang the lantern on its hook.

“Are you surprised? Surely even you can’t be that clueless.” Hisoka scoffed. The bitterness in his voice was surprising even to himself and he cleared his throat, looking away.

Illumi did rise to the taunt, choosing instead to stroll over and seat himself next to Hisoka on the shredded bedding. It didn’t escape his notice that the magician was naked for some reason but it was with more of a morbid curiosity that he let his eyes wander down the magician’s nude form. Hisoka’s physique was thinner but no less mean, Illumi noted as he took in the way the lack of fat under the magician’s skin only made his already fearsome musculature look impossibly more defined. A colorful palate of bruises—leftover from his fight with Knuckle, most likely—spread like ugly stains across the front of Hisoka’s torso, and Illumi suspected, across his back as well. Usually, Nen-users were able to use their aura to recover from flesh injuries in a day or two. The stubborn presence of the bruises were a visual anomaly: a testimony to Hisoka’s unnatural powerlessness.

There were also three long scratches running diagonally in parallel across the magician’s front that had begun to scab over but were undoubtedly fresh. Hisoka retracted his hand self-consciously when he noticed Illumi looking at the blood under his nails.

“Are you done?” Hisoka snapped, drawing Illumi’s attention away from his body. “Under normal circumstances, I’d be flattered by your attention to my body but the dark dungeon and psychological torture thing really kills the mood.”

Illumi blinked, not at all apologetic. “What did you see in the dark?”

“What? Like you don’t already know?” Hisoka retorted.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t that why you did all this?” he gestured toward the barren room, “You know how to torture a corpse and make it talk so don’t expect me to think you chose to use _the dark_ for no reason.”

Illumi frowned. “I did that as petty revenge.” he conceded after a moment’s hesitation. Hisoka raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You omitted important information about Killua’s acquaintance and I had my eyes taken in my fight as a result.”

“That sounds more like a mistake on your part than mine.”

“You’ve got an ulterior motive behind each breath you take so don’t expect me to think you didn’t omit that information on purpose.” Illumi challenged.

The air hung heavy with tension for a moment before Hisoka huffed in amused defeat. “Fine.” he accepted with a wave of his hand, “An eye for an eye; I got what I deserved. What do you say we put this behind us?”

Illumi didn’t answer but the slight crease between his brows smoothed out and Hisoka knew he was forgiven.

“So, what did you see?” Illumi asked again.

He almost jumped in surprise when Hisoka, instead of answering, grabbed his hand and moved it away from where it was resting on his lap so that he could lay his head down on the assassin’s thighs instead. Illumi frowned as ticklish sensation of Hisoka’s head wiggling in his lap rudely reminded him that the clown was still very much buck-ass nude and he looked away to hide the way his cheeks warmed despite himself.     

“What do I get for telling?” the magician asked with a shit-eating grin after he’d finally settled in.

“My eternal gratitude.” Illumi deadpanned, refusing to look at him. The emotional back and forth that came with interacting with Hisoka was exhausting. “I thought we were supposed to be friends. Must everything abide by such strict rules of quid-pro-quo?”

“First of all, let me say that I am _touched_ that you consider me a friend Illu~” Hisoka slurred, pressing a hand teasingly over his heart, “And since you don’t have much experience with emotionally available relationships, I’ll give you a little lesson in friendship 101. When having heart to heart conversations with a _pal_ , it’s societally expected that both parties divulge emotionally sensitive information so that a close bond can be formed through mutual vulnerability. What you choose to tell your pal is up to you but it’s considered rude for one person to interrogate the other in the name of friendship. Do you think you can handle that dear?”

Illumi tensed up, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to shove Hisoka off his lap, lock the door behind him on his way out, and leave the clown to rot in the belly of the manor for the rest of eternity. But in the end, his curiosity trumped his annoyance and he slumped back against the wall in defeat. “What would quality as equivalent exchange for your answer?”

Hisoka took his time, pressing a finger coquettishly to his lips to feign contemplation despite the fact that his answer was already burning on his tongue like a hot coal. “Your family.” He answered at last, careful to keep his tone innocent though his intentions were anything but. Though the assassin’s face stayed impassive, Hisoka could feel the muscles in Illumi’s legs tense defensively beneath his head.

“Why do you want to know about my family?” Illumi asked carefully.

Hisoka shrugged easily. “I never had a family, not like yours anyways. Call me sentimental but I’d like to know what it’s like.” He didn’t need to look to know that the dark-haired assassin didn’t buy his blatant lie one bit. That was fine. In his experience, he’d found that people always disclosed more information when they were left wondering about why he wanted to know. Illumi no doubt knew this as well but his exceptional wit would only work against him in this case, torturing him with dozens of potential explanations and a need to know.  

Sure enough, Illumi didn’t probe any further.

“Fine.” Illumi relinquished, though his voice was thick with displeasure. “But you start. What did you see in the dark?”

“The circus I was with when I was a child.” Hisoka answered with no further resistance. “At first, they used to lock me in a black box when I misbehaved in shows, which was more often than not. Took them awhile but when they finally figured out that my Bungee Gum was as much of a weapon as an amusing trick, they locked me up permanently and put in me cage fights instead. I’ll leave out the more graphic details of what they did to me but that’s why I’m not a huge fan of dark locked rooms.”

Illumi nodded in contemplation. “I assume you killed them?”  

Hisoka shrugged, “That’s a different story.”  He tilted his head back slightly to look into Illumi’s eyes, “Your turn. Why didn’t your parents freak out when Kalluto ran off and joined the Phantom troupe? I know Killua’s the family favorite but I thought your parents loved all you kids to some degree.”

The assassin looked away, the downturn of his lips betraying his discomfort. “They do. Father’s against it in principle, but Kalluto is happy with the troupe and he’s learning a lot, working with them. Kallu’s always been kind of mom’s personal project anyways, so father never paid too much attention to him. Father doesn’t mind too much that Kallu’s not home as long as he still takes jobs. Mother misses him but she knows he’ll come back if she wants him to so she’s not too worried. Grandpa always just did his own thing so,” Illumi ended that thought with a shrug.

“And you? Do you miss him?”

The magician smiled when Illumi shot him a condescending look.

“Of course I do.” Illumi said slowly as though Hisoka was a special kind of dumb, “But I was rarely home anyways so this isn’t too different from how it always was.”

“Ha.” Hisoka chuckled, “For a supposedly loving family, you guys are awfully nonchalant about not seeing each other for months at a time.”  

Illumi bit his lower lip in thought. “It’s more disorganized than I would prefer it, that’s true.” He agreed, “Father doesn’t have ambitions beyond getting jobs done and each of us are more than strong enough to handle 99% of the assignments alone.”

“But you’re not satisfied with just the daily grind.” Hisoka baited, smirking as Illumi’s eyes narrowed the in warning. “Are you?”

Illumi didn’t reply but his stony silence was answer enough. “I think I’ve shared more than enough. How did it end with the circus?”

Hisoka smiled, the expression unsettling than reassuring on his face. In his weakened state, he knew better than to pressure Illumi (more than he already had anyways). Either way, the seed was sown. Whether it took root or not was outside of his control. “It ended exactly as you’d expect. I bided my time, pretended to be the barbaric little freak they thought I was and when they let their guard down, I sshhhck—“ he punctuated the sound with a slicing motion, “took off my keeper’s head with an ax. And I could have just run off after that if I wanted to but I didn’t want to.”

“You killed them all.”

“Man, woman, and child~” Hisoka chortled, laying each word on his tongue like candy. “And all the animals too just for the hell of it. They wouldn’t have been able to survive on their own anyways so I don’t feel too bad about that. It was a beautiful wreck. You’d have liked it, if you’d have seen it.” His expression turned wistful as he thought once again about the bloodbath, one of his few satisfying childhood memories. “Tell me about your mother. I have to admit I’m a little perplexed by her character. You know, the whole, tears of joy when Killua stabbed her in the face and all that.” He elucidated upon seeing Illumi’s questioning glance.

“Oh that.” Illumi reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ears as he thought about the best way to describe the motivations behind his mother’s dramatic antics. “Mother’s rather…enamored by the whole Zoldyck reputation so she’s really happy when one of us conforms to her idea of an assassin. She lived in Meteor city before she met my dad and she was strong so she lived reasonably well but there’s not much there in terms of luxuries. Grandpa says she spent a week just admiring the house when Dad first brought her home. She’s more invested in us kids becoming the Zoldyck ideal than dad ever was.”

“She’s not upset that you’re associating with an animal like me?” Hisoka teased, gesturing at the ruined furniture for emphasis. “I haven’t exactly been on my best behavior.” 

Illumi shook his head. “She hasn’t been able to see you these last few days. The dark interferes with her vision.”

“Really?” Hisoka asked, surprised, “Is she watching now then?”

Another head shake. “It’s after 3 a.m. I made sure she was asleep before coming down here.”

“Hm.” The magician acknowledged, thoughtful. Bit by bit, the complicated tangle of Zoldyck family politics was becoming more transparent and the cogs in his mind turned furiously as he processed the new information. He had suspected that Kikyou would play an important part in his plans ever since Illumi had admitted that her worsening tantrums were the source of his distress. Only now, however, was her true potential coming to light. The driving force behind the conditioning of the Zoldyck children was less patriarchal than he had anticipated. That meant cracking Kikyou was much more important than swaying the head of the family.

“Did you have a mother?”

“Hmm?” Hisoka hummed, distracted, “Well yes, of course. I was born from a woman. I don’t know if she had any aspirations for me, though, given that she sold me for a loaf of bread.”

“Oh.” The syllable fell from Illumi’s lips almost apologetically.

Hisoka decided he didn’t like that at all. “It doesn’t matter; she’s dead now.”

It took a second for Illumi to ask the question they both knew was coming. “Did you kill her?”

Hisoka snorted. “I wish, but no. She was already dead by the time I made my way back to Meteor city. The neighbors said they dumped her body in the landfill so there wasn’t even a grave for me to desecrate. But it a fitting end for her, from trash to trash.”

The conversation hit an uncomfortable lull after that. To lighten the mood, Hisoka asked about Killua even though he didn’t actually need to know anything about the young heir. Breaching the subject was like break a dam and once Illumi began talking, he couldn’t stop. For the next two hours, Hisoka was entreated to a detailed description of the white-haired boy’s eccentric childhood habits. Hisoka listened attentively. Most of the stories were of little use even as blackmail but they were entertaining and Hisoka didn’t have it in him to interrupt Illumi’s enthusiastic storytelling.

Dimly, Hisoka wondered if he was the first to ever hear these stories. It was likely, given Illumi’s reticent disposition and his distaste for fraternization, that the assassin wouldn’t ever have had the occasion, much less the inclination, to share fond personal memories with anyone else before. The thought that Illumi felt close enough to _him_ to do so made Hisoka feel lighter than he had in a long time.

At the night wore on, Illumi’s fingers wandered into Hisoka’s fuchsia hair, combing through the medium length locks absentmindedly as he talked. He didn’t seem to mind when Hisoka took the opportunity to twist his hands into long dark strands that fell near his head. Moving slowly as to not tug, Hisoka brought his hand in front of his face to admire how glossy Illumi’s hair was, shiny even in the dim lamp light. It had always fascinated him that good traits like strength and beauty tended to show up together, as though the gods came together and collectively decided to pour all their blessings into a single human vessel. How fortunate he was to have wormed his way into the good graces of such a man. Too bad he wasn’t the kind of person content to let good things lie.

Illumi slipped out some hours later, leaving the light this time. He still locked the door though, quipping that he was no kindhearted snake-hugging farmer but Hisoka did not particularly mind. Their conversation had given him all the information he needed and then some. If he couldn’t go to his target, he’d just have to bring her to him. And he had a pretty good idea of how to do it too.

Hisoka waited another two hours after Illumi’s departure, using the time to freshen up and finally eat. By his reckoning, it was least nine in the morning by the time he was done: ample time for the pampered mistress of the house to wake up. If Illumi was to be believed and Kikyou really couldn’t see him these past few days, then she was probably burning with curiosity by now. Hisoka was a little disappointed that she hadn’t already come to see him of her own volition but he suspected that had less to do with a lack of interest and more with a desire to save face. There was little doubt that she was observing him from the safe recluse of her bedroom though. Hisoka stretched languidly, splaying his tall, muscled form across the entirety of the bed in a pose that could only be described as exhibitionist.

Who was he to deny her a show?

With a self-satisfied grin, Hisoka reached down and loosely gripped his cock, stroking himself hard with a few practiced tugs. To help himself along, he pictured the pale stripe of Illumi’s throat, long and graceful beneath the dark curtain of his hair. After a lifetime of debauchery, there was little in the way flesh that still could still bring a rise out of him, but there was an attractive grace about the assassin’s body that made him stand out from the masses.

Hisoka breath hitched as he imagined sinking his teeth into Illumi’s the curve above Illumi’s clavicle, breaking the flawless skin. He’d let the blood run into his mouth, would drink it down before lapping the flat of his tongue over the assassin’s long, lovely neck to smear it around and make a pretty mess. That would make Illumi angry and he’d unleash the bloodlust Hisoka loved so much. Hisoka’s mouth fell open in a silent ‘oh’ as the pleasure from his cock mingled with the memory of Illumi’s terrible power into an intoxicating cocktail.

Their fucking would be violent. Illumi may look like a doll but he was anything but pliant or controllable. They would tear each other apart to maintain dominance but the struggle would be exactly the thing that would elevate their intimacy beyond the doldrums of simple carnal fulfillment. Pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin, and Illumi would give him both, would tear the skin on his back even as his body welcomed him in. Hisoka let his head loll backward as he stroked faster, up and down his aching cock, the sensitive skin now slick pre-cum.

Sex with Illumi would be phenomenal for him, by god, he was going to make sure Illumi enjoyed it too. He would turn Illumi onto his hands and knees—maybe glue him down with bungee gum—and treat him to a deep, slow fucking until he came screaming his name. Then he’d give it to him again, fast and hard. The thought of Illumi in front of him, back arched, ass stretched tight around his dick sent a tremor through Hisoka and Illumi’s name fell from his lips like a prayer. His cock throbbed hot and wet and sensitive in his grip as his ministrations increased in intensity.

Now that the silence was broken, Hisoka wasted no effort staying quiet, chanting Illumi’s name like a mantra as he worked one hand over his dick while the other roamed across his heated skin. He imagined Illumi’s slender hands as he ran palms over his pectorals and down his abs. Despite his work, the assassin’s hands were soft, almost feminine. They would feel luxurious massaging over the sensitive skin on his inner thigh or wrapped around his cock. The images in Hisoka’s mind became more fragmented as pressure coiled white hot in his lower stomach, pulling his muscles tight.

He shuddered as he switched to thinking about the sensations he knew. He panted as he recalled the heat of Illumi’s body bleeding through the layers of their clothes during their embrace, the milky scent of the assassin’s skin when he didn’t smell of blood and death, the smooth silk of his hair between his fingers. God, that long black hair would look absolutely lovely draped against the alabaster skin of Illumi’s bare back.

“Fuck…” Hisoka panted as he tightened his grip and thumbed at the head of his cock. It was almost embarrassing how quickly just thinking of Illumi could push him over the edge but luckily, he didn’t need to last much longer. Kikyou probably had more than enough incentive to come down and give him the thrashing of a lifetime. Just for good measure though, he near screamed Illumi’s name as his orgasm finally tore through him, splattering ropey spurts of cum over his hand and abs.

Hisoka lay unmoving for a few seconds before forcing himself to his feet. He cleaned up quickly and slipped on the bathrobe that had been hanging in the bathroom. While he did not have any qualms about nudity, it was probably in his best interest to be somewhat decent while facing down wrath of a scandalized mother. Bending down, he retrieved a few thin strips of paper from the pocket of his discarded battle clothes and slipped them into the pocket of his robe.

It wasn’t long before the furious tapping of high heeled shoes could be heard echoing down the stone hallway. Hisoka made his way back to the bed and sat to await his fate. Kikyou’s anger was a tangible force as it swept down the hall, causing the air to almost boil with the intensity of aura. In the back of Hisoka’s mind, his long neglected survival instinct screamed at him to run but he ignored it. There was nowhere to go anyways.

It was with herculean effort that he managed to meet Kikyou’s scathing glare without flinching when she threw the heavy door open with enough force to bury the steel door handle in the rock wall.

As expected, Kikyou was stilled dressed in her sleeping clothes and her hair hung loose over her shoulders. The fine silk of her rose pink robe trembled as her shoulders shook with anger.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” Kikyou hissed, too mad to even scream.

“Pleasuring myself while thinking of your eldest child.” Hisoka replied with a suicidal smirk. “I’m sure I’m not the first. Illumi really is quite attractive.” His heart hammered furiously in his chest as Kikyou’s aura roared around him but fluttering in his stomach was nine parts excitement.

Kikyou reeled back like she’d been slapped. “How _dare_ _you—“_ she began, finding her voice, “defile Illumi with such lecherous fantasies you _son of a trashy bitch_. My son is a _Zoldyck_ and he is far above the perverted desires of scum like you. I ought to kill you--” She quivered as her nails extended into claws, carving thin grooves into the rock as she grabbed the wall to steady herself, “but death would be too kind a punishment.”

“You can try if you want,” Hisoka bluffed easily. While he was very aware that a fight in his current state would be short and lethal, it was more important that he maintain the illusion of control in sensitive conversations like these. Keeping the upper hand in verbal negotiations was easier with strong fighters like Illumi, whose caution tended to be dulled by their assurance in their strength. Kikyou, though, was a different story. Her exterior image may be that of a hysterical housewife but Hisoka knew better than to underestimate a woman who managed to scrounge a decent living in the world’s most uninhabitable city and then seduced one of its most dangerous men. Underneath the crazy veneer lay a calculating warrior, whose ambition was curbed only by her love for her family. But that love was her Achilles heel. “But is the satisfaction of spilling my blood worth angering the only child that still swears fealty to you?”

 

The red line running across the lens of Kikyou’s visor narrowed to a single point. “You honestly think Illumi would side with you over his own mother?”

 

Hisoka shrugged, “I can't say, but I’m sure that you, being his mother, know that Illu isn't as emotionally incapacitated as he lets on. My death is sure to make him feel _something_. And seeing as he's going out of his way to keep me alive, I'd say that that feeling won't be a good one.”

 

That made Kikyou freeze. “What do you mean?”

 

Hisoka snapped his fingers in a caricature of epiphany, “Oh right~” he said, mouth twisting into a mocking smile. “That's not what he told _you_ is it?”

 

A vein popped in Kikyou’s neck and she opened her mouth as though to make a sharp retort but no sound came out. “Illumi wouldn't lie to me.” She said finally, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

 

“Really? You don't sound so convinced.” Hisoka purred, zeroing onto her insecurity like a shark to blood, “It's rare and far between but this wouldn’t be the first time he’s acted out on his own would it? Think back to Alluka for example—”

 

“How do you know about Alluka?” Kikyou interrupted, hackles rising as a sense of unease came over her, dampening her anger. Of course she had known that Illumi wasn't mindlessly obedient, and she was willing to overlook his occasional transgressions for the sake of his personal growth, but telling a non-family member about Alluka was strictly taboo.

 

Hisoka’s smile stretched impossibly wide. “What, you don't really believe he pulled off a plan that elaborate all on his own do you? Well since I’ve already spilled the beans, I may as well tell you. I’m the one who killed your ex-head Butler. He put up a decent fight, but, unfortunately, it takes more than a fancy coin toss to kill me. Was it difficult finding a replacement?”

 

Kikyou took a shaky breath as the true extent of Illumi’s betrayal became clear. “And now?” She asked in a dangerous whisper, “What is Illumi doing now that I don't know about?”

 

“Oh, I don't think I should tell you. It would be against my code of honor to betray my _friend_ like that.” Hisoka replied gleefully. He resisted the urge to squirm in delight at the sight of pure murder on Kikyou's face. Like mother like son it seemed. “But,” he paused again, just to see her lips twitch, “I do feel bad for you. Being a mother is hard and I can't imagine how painful it must be abandoned by your own children.” He let his voice mellow out into a soothing baritone and smoothed the irksome smile into an expression genuine sympathy.

 

Kikyou’s didn’t buy it one bit. “My children have done no such thing. They love me.”

 

“Uh-huh, if you insist.”, the magician nodded, “They've certainly got a strange way of showing it though don’t they? Killua’s almost threatened to kill you…hmm…twice now, both times so he could leave you. Alluka is a special kind of heartbreak, being what she is. And even sweet, obedient, little Kalluto. He said he'd come back but I know he hasn’t been visiting if even Illumi hasn’t seen him in a while.” Hisoka rose and began gliding towards Kikyou as he talked, making sure to move slowly to avoid alarming her. Emotional manipulation was difficult in that it the easiest of all the methods to see through, and the smallest of distractions would break the spell. But it was also the hardest form of persuasion to resist. As long as he the feeling correctly, he could let Kikyou's over-active mind would take care of the rest. “I'd say the only one still fighting for you now is Illumi. He's resembles you quite a lot. He’s smart, willing to do anything for what he wants, and prioritizes family over everything else.”

 

Hisoka stopped with only a few inches left between him and Kikyou. Her lips curled down in disgust but she didn't back away, not even when Hisoka’s breath ghosted against her ear as he leaned in close to whisper, “I’m helping Illumi go after Killua's right now and he’s doing it because he doesn't want to see you upset anymore. I know the unity of your family is most important to you, and you’re acting unreasonably because you're scared, but it's easier to keep people together with happiness than misery. It's too late for Killua's but he's not your only hope.” Kikyou glanced down as Hisoka pressed three strips of glossy paper into her hand, “Illumi’s still trying hard for you, so keep an eye out for him in return won't you?”

 

Kikyou's expression was unreadable as she studied the photos Hisoka handed her. Each one featured Illumi and Hisoka together on an amusement park ride which was strange in and of itself. What made the pictures most shocking, however, was the fact that Illumi was _smiling._

Hisoka stood back to let Kikyou look through the photos in peace. She was stony faced and silent but he could tell that she was affected in the way she carefully pinched the photos between her fingers to avoid bending them before taking a step back and slamming the door behind her without another word.

 

Hisoka let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as the click of her shoes faded off into the distance. That had gone remarkably well, all things considered. He’d made his gamble. Only time could tell if it would pay off.

* * *

 

The rest of the month passed rather uneventfully. Kikyou did not return but he hadn’t expected her to. Illumi came to visit somewhat regularly though, bringing books and games to help Hisoka pass the time. After the initial malice had passed, Illumi care was actually quite pleasant. It took a few conversations to finally exhausted Illumi’s massive library of childhood sibling stories but they transitioned smoothly to other topics once they had, and Hisoka was pleased to find that Illumi was quite well educated in non-murder related subjects. Hisoka’s own eclectic schooling had consisted of whatever books he managed to steal and his knack for information mining but Illumi had insightful opinions on every topic.

 

On the thirtieth day, Illumi brought a bundle of clothing and makeup on his visit as a congratulatory gift. Though Hisoka had grown quite comfortable with Illumi’s arrangement, getting his nen back felt like taking a breath of fresh air after suffocating underwater for a month. He was not going to part with it so lightly again.

 

“Here.” Illumi said, handing Hisoka an engraved silver ring set with an opaque green stone as they left the cell.

 

“Wow, Illu, I’m very touched but don’t you think we should at least go on a date first?” Hisoka teased as he slipped the ring onto his middle finger.

 

Illumi rolled his eyes and slipped an identical ring onto his own hand. “Catch Killua for me and I’ll take you on a date.”

 

Hisoka laughed “I must be a terrible influence if you’re making jokes like that.”

 

Illumi’s lips turned upwards in a shallow smile.

 

They didn’t speak again as they made through the maze-like mansion to a small room, empty save for a JoyStation console.  With just a look of understanding, the two killers activated their Ren and let the world dissolve in a flurry of technicolored lights.


	6. Greed Island

“Killu-nii?”

Killua looked up from where he had been spacing out, seated on the edge of a cliff overlooking of the lovely seaside town of Soufrabi. “Yeah Kalluto? Did you need something?”

Kalluto’s shoulders brushed against the sharp edge of his bob in a shrug. “Nothing really. I just wanted to talk.”

He took a seat on the ground next to Killua when Killua nodded his assent.

“What did you want to talk about?” Killua asked after the youngest Zoldyck child got comfortable.

“Nothing in particular. I just…haven’t seen you in a while. You left so suddenly both times that I never even got a chance to say goodbye.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry about that.” Killua mumbled, a pinched expression on his face.

Kalluto shook his head, “No, it’s fine. I’m not upset. You had your reasons and I understand them even if mom and Illu-nii don’t.”

At that, Killua glanced at his youngest brother in surprise. “So you’re not here to guilt me into going back?”

“Of course not! I’m with the Troupe now anyways. It’d be hypocritical of me to say that you have to go home when I don’t.”

Killua made a sound of understanding. He’d been surprised to discover that Kalluto joined the Phantom Troupe, had been with them for years even, but he’d been more surprised that his mother had allowed it. Back in the day, he’d had to threaten her life every time he tried to leave but it sounded like Kalluto had simply walked out on an errand one day and never went back. While he whole-heartedly supported Kalluto’s decision to leave that madhouse, he was a little perturbed with the casualness of it all. Kalluto looked healthy though. His cheeks still rosy with youth if a little less round than before, and his soft pink eyes were bright.

“Are mom and dad ok?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I think so. Mom misses you a lot though. I’ve been busy with the Troupe so I haven’t visited them in a while but the last time I was back it was all ‘have you talked Killua, and I hope Killua’s doing well, and would you tell him I got him more clothes if you see him’. Mom’s spent so much money buying things for you that Dad’s complaining that he has to work overtime.” Kalluto chuckled.

Killua couldn’t help but laugh along at the mental image of his father standing by in despair as Kikyou’s whims emptied the family coffers. That seemed to break the ice and two brothers fell into easy conversation after that. Kalluto was too young for them to be really sociable back when they both still lived at the manor, but as Kalluto recounted his outlandish adventures with the Troupe, Killua was pleased to find that his littlest brother had quite the mouth on him.  In return, Killua described in detail the sights he’d seen while traveling with Alluka and the strange jobs he’d had to take to keep them going. Slowly, the stream of conversation shifted to the spectacular dodgeball game they’d played against Razor earlier that day.

The game was hopelessly unbalanced, consisting of the joined forces of half the Phantom Troupe, a small team of ants led by Kite, Bisky, and himself against a solitary Razor. Bisky had been waiting at the steps at the game’s entrance when he and Alluka first arrived. At first, she’d tried to play her presence off as a happy coincidence but it hadn’t taken long for him to push her into revealing her true intentions.

She and a group of powerful hunters were temporarily setting aside their differences to win the game again, she said. They already had 97 of the restricted slot cards collected between them but they needed a few more players to activate the dodgeball game so they was going with her whether they wanted to or not. Alluka, in her overwhelming excitement, accepted Bisky’s request without evening hearing the details. Imagine Killua’s surprise, then, upon discovering that the “powerful hunters” Bisky had recruited were a band of ruthless killers, his resurrected mentor, Palm, and Meleron. Finding Kalluto among the Troupe’s ranks was the cherry on top.

“You were really amazing Killu-nii!” Kalluto exclaimed with flailing arms, “I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head when I saw you catch Razor’s spike _by matching the speed of the ball_.”

“Pssh like you're one to talk, little Mr. Destroyed-three-nen-beasts-with-paper. Where'd you learn nen anyways?” Killua's laughed with a hearty slap to Kalluto’s back that nearly knocked the slender boy off the cliff. “Oops, sorry. Forgot my own strength”, he apologized as he caught his brother and steadied him.

 

“It's OK.” Kalluto's smiled, loosening his reflexive grip on Killua's forearms. “Since you're not following family rules anymore, I guess I can tell you. Illu-nii taught me nen when I was 7. Mom and dad told me to keep it a secret from you because they wanted to make sure your physical training was perfect before you learned nen. Must have something to do with your being heir.”

 

The thought that his parents deliberately kept nen from him caused an unpleasant chill to settle in Killua’s chest, dampening the warmth of Kalluto's companionship. The physical training excuse was such a weak lie that he doubted Kalluto actually believed it. His parents’ secrecy was to prevent him from getting too strong before they could break his will completely. As much as it appalled him, Killua had to admit that it was a wise move on their part. Now that he had power, he was going to use it so that they could never have him in their hands again.

 

Kalluto's worried at his bottom lip as he watched the displeasure on Killua's face. Being superbly perceptive came as both a blessing and a curse. As a manipulator, it was crucial that he be able to read people quickly and accurately, but the awareness certainly didn't spare him any discomfort when he shoved his foot in his mouth. Well, there was point in avoiding the topic now. “It’s not all bad Killu-nii,” he started hesitantly, “I know it's selfish of me to make this about myself but if things hadn't played out like they did, I may still be trapped at home too. Mom was never as cruel to me as she was to you so if you hadn’t opened my eyes to how twisted things had got, I may never have had the resolve to leave. So if nothing else, thank you for knocking some sense into me.”

He let out the breath he was holding when, after a tense moment, Killua smiled.

 

“Yeah things were pretty fucked up weren't they? I can't believe I used to think that beating your kids up was a normal way for parent’s to display their love.” Killua ran a hand through his fluffy white hair and leaned back, supporting his weight on his hands so that he could swing his feet freely, “You still work for dad though, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I guess I just don't hate killing like you do. I mean I did join the _Phantom Troupe_ and I'm happy with them. That should tell you everything you need to know about my character.” He paused in uncertainty, “Do you hate me for it?”

 

Killua swallowed, taking a moment to organize his thoughts. “No, I don't,” he said at last, “I've done my fair share of despicable deeds and I didn't hate it all the time. I have no right to judge you.”

 

“Thank you.” Kalluto breathed in relief. The pair lapsed into a companionable silence as each returned to their own thoughts. Killua went back to watching the peaceful nightscape. Kalluto, meanwhile, kept a straight face but squirmed internally as he struggled to figure out a way to repay the news he’d been tasked with. Had Hisoka not given him a run down on all the suffering Killua had suffered at Gon’s selfish requests, he would not have so much trouble telling his brother that his old friend was looking for him, but as it stood, he didn't want Killua to return to Gon. On top of that, the Alluka’s unexpected request felt like adding insult to injury.

 

Killua's powers of observation also proved to be a force to reckon with, however, and he didn't even look over before saying “Out with it. Say what you have to say.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Kalluto decided that saying it all at once like ripping off a bandage in a smooth stroke was the best approach. “Gon's looking for you and Alluka wants to stay with Bisky to train. She wanted me to tell you so you had some time to think about before confronting her...” He added sheepishly at the sight of unmitigated shock on Killua's face. “Also Gon is the one who contacted Hisoka and everyone else for help. He was worried that contacting you directly after so long would push you away. That’s why he asked that everyone help him show you that we all care about you. And if you want, he's waiting for you in Yorkshin.”

 

The flood of information had Killua feeling dizzy the way he did when he lost too much blood and didn’t give a fuck anymore. He didn’t even know what to react to first. Alluka’s request was upsetting but their prior arguments about this matter had served as sufficient warning. _Gon_ though, “What the fuck. He thinks that doing _this_ is going to convince me to forgive him?!”

 

Kalluto flinched at the anger in Killua’s voice but the white haired hunter was gone, years of pent up emotions bursting forth like a volcanic eruption.

 

“He goes off, throws away the life that _I_ saved a hundred times over without so much as a thought about how _I_ might feel about it and after I risk my neck to save his ungrateful ass, he has the _gall_ to drag me around the world on a wild goose chase just so that I would be too confused to be mad at him?” White hot electricity sparked around Killua like a repulsive force field as his nen responded to his ire. “Am I supposed to be grateful? Does he think I need to be _reminded_ about everything I sacrificed for a quiet life with my sister, as if the pain in my chest every time I see a pair of kids play fucking rock-paper-scissors isn’t reminder enough? _”_  

 

Being a smart child with a healthy-ish sense of self-preservation, Kalluto wisely retreated to a safe distance as Killua’s rant continued. He couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. Gon may have played a formative role in Killua’s growth from a heartless assassin to a functional human being but the boy had always had too much sway over his brother’s emotions and Kalluto couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t been terribly close to Killua, even when they had both lived at home, but he knew his brother well. Killua was cautious and calculating by nature. Had he not been blinded by his love for Gon, he would never have done even a fraction of the self-sacrificing, reckless, things he did.

 

Hearing about it all after the fact made Kalluto sick.

 

At the same time… at the same time though, he couldn’t deny that Gon made Killua happier than anyone else.

 

As cliche as it was, Gon and his brother had an undeniable spark. They brought out the best in each other (and the worst in each other) and gave each other direction. Though Kalluto wasn’t previously familiar with Gon, even he could tell that there was something subdued about the island boy’s demeanor when they met again. And despite his bitterness, Kalluto couldn’t resist genuine resolve in glittering in Gon’s gold eyes when he explained his desire to apologize to Killua and set things right. There was something dangerous about Gon’s ability to persuade anyone to help him.

 

Regardless, it was good to see that Killua had healed enough to be able to talk about his old wounds.

 

“And he never even apologized!” Killua exclaimed, continuing to rant to no one in particular, “That was the just cherry on top of the shittiest year of my life! Oh, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind when I see him. I’m going to _ja-jakened_ him in the fucking face.”

 

“Or you could not go.” Kalluto interrupted, throwing one final bone to his selfishness.

 

Killua froze. “What did you say?”

 

“You don’t have to go back to him, and to be honest, I would prefer if you didn’t.”

 

“What are you—“

 

“You complain that he didn’t think about you when he sent off on suicide missions but, Killu-nii, you’re just as bad. Did it never occur to you how devastated our family would be, how devastated _I_ would be if you actually died for him? He’s the one you love most but there are a lot of people other than him who wouldn’t know how to go on if they lost you. I get that what mom and Illu-nii did to you crossed the line and I understand if you can’t come back home, but please, take some time to think before you toss your lot in with Gon again.”

 

Killua closed his mouth with a click and they both looked away, neither of them comfortable with the emotional turn of conversation.

 

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Killua hung his head and kept his eyes on his hands, “You’re right. Gon was like light and I went blind staring after him for so long. I’m sorry I made everyone worry. I’ll value my own life more from now on.” He sighed, exhausted, when he felt Kalluto’s hand descend upon his shoulder.

 

Kalluto stepped back to give Killua room to climb back up from the ledge and buried his face in Killua’s chest when Killua enclosed him in a tight hug. _So this was the kind of affection Alluka received on a daily basis_ , he thought jealously as he reveled in the warmth of Killua’s attention.

 

But this hug was special in a way Killua and Alluka’s hugs were not. This hug was an attempt to communicate years of apologies and frustration and forgiveness. It was a promise that the future would be different.

 

Kalluto pulled away first. “I can keep Illu-nii distracted for a day at least. Kortopi’s copies are amazingly convincing and I can manipulate it to mimic your movements and presence.”

 

He jerked in surprise when Killua grabbed the top of his head, mussing his hair roughly.

 

“Thank little bro, but I’m not leaving just yet. Gon’s waited this long; he can wait a little longer. It’s rare for so many of us siblings to be gathered peacefully in one place and I don’t know the next time that’ll happen so let’s have some fun until Hisoka tells me it’s time to get out. I’m guessing you’re his contact person this time?” Killua said with an encouraging grin.

 

Kalluto nodded mutely.

 

“Great. Why don’t we get Alluka and go to Dorias make some money to fund our adventures. What do you say?”

 

“I say you’ll end up a penniless beggar knowing your luck in gambling.” Kalluto said, eyes laughing. He hid his smile behind his fan at the sight of Killua’s indignation. “But don’t worry, onii-chan, I’ll make sure to win enough to cover your losses and then some.” He began backing before he even finished the sentence.

 

Killua’s eyes widened in mock anger and he flexed his fingers, holding his hands like claws. “Why you—”

 

Kalluto didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it. Careless laughter echoed down the mountainside as they raced down the path, back into the twinkling lights of the city.

* * *

 

In the end, Alluka won more money than the both of them put together. It was like her bets were the word of god and the slot machines, roulettes, and dealers were her loyal followers. With the money she won, they were able to tour Greed Island like kings. The island was home to a host of mystical creatures that didn’t exist anywhere else in the world. There were enough new experiences that the three of them, with all their knowledge and adventures, were never bored. Without the pressure of trying to win the game, the side quests were actually quite entertaining. Before Killua knew it, a full week had passed, bringing them back to the harbor that was one of the two exit game options.

 

During the week, he’d had many a brutally honest conversation with Alluka as they both took advantage of Kalluto’s peacekeeping skills to air their long overdue grievances. As much as it hurt to hear that his protective efforts had come off as smothering, Killua’s couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with pride at the lionhearted assertiveness with which Alluka bargained for her autonomy. It seemed like just yesterday that he was carrying her from her prison, a lonely and defenseless child with no life skills to speak of. She had grown up in front of his eyes and he’d been too distracted to see it.

 

With Alluka’s new guardian situation sorted out, Killua had no more excuses to delay thinking about the Gon situation. It was with much nerve-wracking indecision that he finally conceded that it was time to face his fears and reunite with his estranged best friend.

 

At Kalluto’s request, Kortopi arrived within the day to make a life-like replica of Killua. Seeing his replica standing opposite himself was one of the stranger experiences in Killua’s life. He’d never had much in the way of vanity so he rarely looked in mirrors, even before he became caught up in the fugitive lifestyle. The mimicry puppet looked…old. Like an adult. A lot had happened since he’d first escaped from the suffocating control of his family and the stress had taken its toll. The impish, baby-faced brat that ran around the world wreaking havoc with his best friend was gone, replaced by a hardened veteran with tired eyes.

 

Alluka wasn’t the only one who had grown up. It was high time he stopped behaving like a scared child.

 

The signal came during their final farewell lunch. A paper doll with hair shaped like fire climbed out of Kalluto’s sleeve, flapping its arms as it begged for attention before promptly bursting into flame. A meaningful glance traveled around the table as the doll slowly crinkled to ash.

 

Killua crammed the last of his fish skewers into his mouth and stood. Alluka stood in a rush as well, bumping into a few chairs in her haste to get around the table.

 

“I’ll— _oof_ ” Killua wheezed as Alluka barreled into his arms, squeezing him tightly enough to force the air out of his lungs. Her affection was almost overwhelming in its ferocity but it was with a tender smile that Killua returned her embrace. “There, there,” he muttered comfortingly as he stroked her thick chestnut hair, “I’m not going to be gone forever. Once I figure things out with Gon and shake off Illumi once and for all, I’ll come back for you. You just focus on your training and don’t worry about me.”

 

“Is that a promise?” Alluka asked. Her voice was steady, if a little muffled, but the trembling of her shoulders gave her away. “Promise you won’t forget about me once you fix things with Gon?” The second question was a strain of her heart, whispered for his ears only.

 

Killua’s stomach clenched as a near-forgotten guilt reared its ugly head at her words. A wave of emotion overtook him then and he pressed his cheek against the crown of her hair as he tightened his grip. “I promise.” He whispered as he carved every detail of her scent, voice, and feel into his memory. “I love you more than anyone else in the whole world. More than Gon even. And I’m sorry I’ve made your life so hard. If you ever need me, just say the word and I promise I’ll drop everything and come running back.”

 

Silent sobs shook Alluka’s delicate frame at Killua’s confession of love. She sucked in loud, ragged breath as she struggled to compose herself, but she managed. Killua loosened his hold when he felt her pull away and she stepped back, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “I love you too Onii-chan.” Her nose was red and her cheeks were blotchy but neither could detract from the brightness of her smile. “And I believe in you. So take your time and really show Illu-nii who’s boss ok? I won’t forgive you if you come back before you set things straight.”

 

“It’s a deal.” Killua replied, linking his pinkie through hers. “And I expect that you to be able to kick my ass next we meet, so work hard ok? Try not to let that old hag squish all the fun out of you though.”

 

Bisky’s indignant cry at Killua’s comment made Alluka giggle and she continued to laugh until laughter bordered on hysterics. She hung her head as the tears began flowing once more, unheeding of her attempt at control.

 

“It’s a deal.” She said after composing herself once more. “I’ll get so strong you won’t even recognize me anymore. And after I kick your ass, I’ll be your protector instead of the other way around!” She squealed in surprise as Killua suddenly grabbed her about the thighs, lifting her into the air and spinning her around.

 

“I can’t wait!” Killua exclaimed with a grin even as quiet tears slid down his own cheeks.

 

After one more hug for Alluka and an equally affectionate embrace for Kalluto, Killua made his way down to the end of the dock. With a flash of lightening that left the air smelling faintly of ozone, he made short work of the ship captain and the ship took off, ferrying him forward into the future. 

 

* * *

 

Hisoka vanished his book and turned around just in time to see Illumi come back out from the bathroom.

 

“Done?” He asked before Illumi could ask him what he had been doing.

 

“Obviously.”

 

Illumi quickly scanned the small village they had happened upon by chance. Apart from a single wooden building which appeared to operate as the village center, the rest of the dwellings were little more than huts assembled from mud-brick and hay. A few NPCs milled around the huts and the fields, feeding chickens and tending to their crops. He did not sense the presence of any other players.

 

“What do we do now?” Illumi asked.

 

Hisoka scratched absentmindedly at his scalp. “Since you’re new and I’ve been out of the game so long that the data from my last run has been erased, I suggest we head to Masadora. We’ll need spell cards if we want to find Killua, go after him, or leave the island. Oh, and seeing as we don’t have money to buy spell cards with, we’ll probably have to win a tournament or do a side quest first.”

 

Raising a hand, Illumi summoned his map. His nose wrinkled in displeasure when he saw Masadora was nearly a half a day’s journey on foot from their current location. “Is there no faster way to get spell cards? Can’t we just steal them from other players?”

 

“You need spell cards to steal cards from other player’s books. And killing players just sends all their cards back to the shop.” Hisoka shrugged to loosen a crick in his shoulder, “If I remember clearly, most of the other players I met last time I was here were not very strong. We’re going to need a good number of Accompany or Magnetic force cards for traveling and weak players tend to have very few of those. We’ll also need cards for tracking and I’m not familiar with those so we’ll probably have to go to Masadora anyways.”

 

“Would we be able to buy as many of Accompany as we want at the spell shop?”

 

“Ha no.” Hisoka snorted, “The shop works like a random number generator. All you can control is how many you decide to buy. What you end up getting is up to chance.”

 

Illumi frowned. “This game is very inconvenient.”

 

He watched, unamused as Hisoka burst into laughter.

 

“Well, it wouldn’t be a very fun game if it weren’t a little challenging, would it?” The magician quipped. “But no, there isn’t any fast and clean way to get a lot of one kind of spell card that I can think of.”

 

“But there is a fast and dirty way.”

 

Hisoka’s eyes flashed.

 

“There should be tournaments in Masadora where the competitors would be stronger than average correct?”

 

Hisoka shrugged, “Ideally.”

 

“And a player’s cards get sent back to the spell shop when they die.”

 

“Yup.”

 

A manic grin spread across Hisoka’s face like diffusing ink as he and Illumi came to a silent understanding.

 

“Oh Illumi, this is why I love hanging out with you.”

 

Illumi conjured his map again to get his bearings, and using the position of the sun, pointed himself due north. “To Masadora then?”

 

“Lead the way~”

 

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon by the time they arrived at the city of magic. At Hisoka’s suggestion, they had taken a detour through the wastelands to collect some magical beast cards to sell for money. A little bit of friendly competition had them nearly fighting each other when Hisoka tried to gain the upper hand by gluing Illumi to a wall and Illumi had retaliated by trying to blind him after tunneling out of the trap. They’d agreed to stop the mutual sabotage in the interest of saving time after that. Regardless, they spent longer in the wastelands than was necessary and now had more beast cards than they would ever need.

 

But really, what was Illumi supposed to do? _Stop_ fighting when Hisoka had more kills? Preposterous. Whatever. Two-hundred and sixty-three bubble horses had to be good for something.

 

They were in luck. A tournament would be held tomorrow morning, their inn keeper said. Even better, the grand prize was Bandit’s Blade, an S-rank card good for stealing other restricted slot cards. Lots of players from all over were gathering specially for this tournament so competition would be fierce. Illumi had listened stone-faced to the inn-keeper’s explanation, leaving Hisoka to deal with the social niceties.

 

After thanking the inn keeper, they paid a visit to the spell shop where they sold their beast cards and inquired as to the cards they would need.

 

“Talking to NPCs is how you learn things in games.” Hisoka explained when Illumi had resisted, insisting that the fewer people that knew of their mission, the better. “They’re not real people. They don’t care what you’re here to do and they’re not tell other people about you. Let me do the talking if you’re so worried.”

 

From the shop keeper, they learned of Trace, which displays a target player’s location as long as they were in the game, and Railguide, which could be used to teleport a target directly to any destination of the card-holder’s choosing. While Railguide would complete their mission in one step, it was rendered ineffective by Shield of Faith, whereas Trace had no such weakness.

 

Neither Trace nor Railguide were ranked very high, but that meant they were both likely to already be distributed amongst the other players. Illumi voiced his concerns a massive plate of “finish-and-it’s-on-the-house-challenge” spaghetti.

 

Hisoka shrugged as he twirled some of the noodles onto a fork, “That’s what the tournament is for. There’s no reason the players tomorrow will have the transport cards but not the tracking ones. If our luck is really that bad, we start robbing random players like you wanted to initially.”

 

“What if he’s gone by then?” 

 

There was a pregnant pause during which Hisoka took his time chewing and swallowing his food as he calculated the odds that Illumi could really miss something so glaringly obvious. Illumi’s face was passive as always but Hisoka was something of an expert in reading the micro-tensions in the assassin’s slack expressions and Illumi was tense. “Illumi, my dear.” He said slowly, as though approaching a spooked animal, “Did you not consider that Killua might already be gone?”

 

The widening of Illumi’s eyes gave him away. Hisoka wore a much more expressive look of surprise, though for vastly different reasons.

 

“It’s been a full month Illumi! Did you really not check to make sure Killua wasn’t somewhere else already before bringing us here?” _Not that I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure you wouldn’t be able to find out, but still._

“I—” Illumi’s eyes nearly crossed themselves as he wracked his brain for any excuse that would explain his carelessness. He looked so scandalized that Hisoka almost felt bad for him.

 

Truth be told, this was the outcome Hisoka had been angling for. The only thing he should having found surprising was how effectively his distraction worked. Locking his nen away had served a three-fold purpose of temporarily halting Illumi’s forward advances, redirecting the assassin’s attention from Killua to himself, and creating a scenario that would allow himself to spend time in Illumi’s company. Though he had done his best to keep Illumi’s thoughts from the chase during his captivity, he hadn’t dared hope that his company would cause the assassin to make an error of such disastrous proportions.

 

The other restaurant patrons cast wary glances in their direction as Illumi’s depression hung heavy in the air around him like a personal storm cloud.

 

“It’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes. This is completely normal.” Hisoka tried to offer in comfort…which was apparently the wrong thing to say if dark scowl on Illumi’s face was anything to go by.

 

“I’m an elite assassin. I can’t afford to make _normal_ mistakes.” _Or any mistakes,_ but it was much too late for that now _._

Hisoka opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. Instead, he reached across the table and discretely palmed the butter knife that Illumi was eyeing as though contemplating how well the dull blade would fare against his inhumanly hard abdominal muscles.

 

“Look on the bright side: our current plan will let us know for sure whether or not Killua is still on the island. It’ll be much more certain than if you’d tried casting your net over the entire world.” It was admittedly not the most efficient way to go about it though, but that didn’t need to be said. “You need to blow of some steam.” Hisoka decided as his words of comfort failed to soften Illumi’s stony countenance. “Why don’t you go all out tomorrow? I’ll keep the doors closed and I won’t interfere.”

 

Illumi lowered his head and for a moment it seemed like that idea would be met with the same unyielding resistance as the others but he said in a quiet voice. “What do you stand to gain from that? You derive more pleasure from killing than even I do.”

 

“I enjoy fighting people who can fight back more. Therapeutic massacre is more your thing.”

 

Well he couldn’t argue with that. Illumi sat back feeling marginally better. “And if Killua’s really not here?”

 

“Then we move on and do as we’ve always done. I agreed to help you find him and I’m a man of my word.”

 

Illumi’s eyes still looked a little dazed but he picked up his fork and resumed eating.

 

“And that’s also just what friends do.” Hisoka added a second later, snickering as Illumi choked on his mouthful of spaghetti.

 

The bloodbath was much more satisfying to watch than participate in. The tournament had drawn enough players that it was held in an enclosed stadium rather than an open field, which made trapping them much easier. Hisoka and Illumi waited until the first round of fighting commenced before making their move.

 

While the competitors and spectators were distracted by the fighting, Hisoka casually strolled along the perimeter of the stadium, leaving a line of glued doors in his wake. Then, using Bungee Gum, he hoisted himself to into the rafters of the stadium where he would be in the best position to both observe Illumi’s rampage and pick off the people who would try to escape using their teleportation cards.

 

He watched gleefully as the announcer introduced Illumi and the blank faced assassin took the stage. His opponent, a mean looking mountain of a man whose biceps rivaled the size of his head, smiled menacingly as he appraised Illumi’s deceptively slim build. The announcer stepped out of the ring and the fight started.

 

Watching Illumi kill was a religious experience. Hisoka couldn’t help the shudder that ran down his spine as Illumi let the heart fall, bloody and beating, into the dust next to its dying owner. The silence in the stands was deafening in its intensity as several hundred people ceased to breath in unison. Every eye was trained on green-clad assassin standing statuesque in the spotlight.

 

Illumi looked up, effortlessly meeting Hisoka’s eyes though the magician had taken extra care to conceal his location. Hisoka nodded.

 

For the next half-hour, the stadium was a scene straight from of hell. Screams tore the air as Illumi wove gracefully through the pandemonium like a specter of death. His hands were his weapon of choice that day. They were mesmerizing in their lethality, rending skin, bone and flesh with no discrimination. The panic reached dizzying heights as those closest to the exits made the dismaying discovery that no amount of pushing could open the doors. The more composed retreated into the crowd, using the others as shields as they summoned their books and attempted to teleport away.

 

 _The thing about “teleportation” on Greed Island,_ however _, was that it didn’t really exist,_ Hisoka mused as he send a card flying into a blur of gold light, slicing the throat of the escapee. As fast as Accompany and Magnetic Force were, they still had to physically transport their user’s body through space the way normal travel would. His current job, then, was little more than an extra challenging duck hunt in which Illumi was the hound that stirred up the birds and Hisoka was the hunter who sent them tumbling back to earth in a shower of blood and shattered hopes.

 

Whenever he could spare the attention, though, Hisoka watched Illumi. This was the first time he had the pleasure of seeing the Zoldyck participate in hand-to-hand combat, and it was positively inspiring. Illumi fought as though in a trance, each movement flowing so seamlessly into the next that it looked like a dance. As with most life-and-death scenarios, though, the thing that entertained Hisoka most was the willful tenacity that humans displayed when confronted with death. Even now, the prey struggled with admirable resolve despite the clear power difference.

 

Hisoka felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched Illumi’s spine contorted backward, snakelike, as he avoided a punch from a powerful female warrior while, at the same time, crashing his heel into the skull of her accomplice. She too fell in short order when Illumi’s claw caught the underside of her belly on his way back up, slitting her torso vertically from her lower abdomen to her sternum. Illumi did not pause to watch her stumbled backward in shock, trying in vain to hold her body closed with her hands. He was gone by the time her body finally folded, dead.

 

In the time it took for Illumi to mow down the weaker riff raff, a group of more strategic fighters had banded together into a somewhat organized resistance. Their leader, a young man whose fighting ability Hisoka pegged as a 63, acted as the pinnacle of the assault. The young man’s Hatsu flared purple as it radiated from his hands before closing in around Illumi like a cage. The others then rushed in with their weapons, slotting their blades between the bars of the nen cage until the contraption resembled an iron maiden.

 

The metal weaponry was packed so densely that, from where he was sitting, Hisoka could not see what had become Illumi.

 

Nobody breathed as they nervously regarded the bristling trap. Five seconds passed. Then ten. There was no movement from the deadly trap.

 

As the calm dragged on, the fighters, one by one, began to forget themselves. From his position, Hisoka was unable to hear the youth’s confident monologue but his dramatic gesturing made it clear that he believed the ambush successful.

 

Hisoka chuckled to himself as the youth’s self-congratulatory speech petered into nothing when a wave of darkness pulsed from the trap like an evil heartbeat. Hisoka watched with rapt interest as the black tendrils of Illumi’s black aura _sunk_ into the boy’s purple nen. He remembered catching a glimpse of something similar back when he’d walked in on Illumi’s fight with Shoot. Saving Shoot’s life had taken priority back then so he hadn’t been able to properly observe the fun new ability Illumi had developed.

 

The remaining fighters around the cage began to back away as the black corroded the purple, cracking the once firm confinement.

 

With a resound _crack!_ the cage shattered. With nothing to hold them in place, the weapons meant to impale Illumi fell to the ground with a despondent clang, easily repelled by the impenetrable of _ten_ shrouding the assassin _._

 

The atmosphere in the stadium shifted perceptibly as Illumi’s real power diffused to fill the space. Hisoka looked away. It would be over quickly. Illumi was sure to lose interest now that the remaining players could offer no more resistance, frozen by fear as they were. Even the most sadistic cat would lose interest in playing with its food if the mice did not run.

 

Abandoning his efforts at stealth, Hisoka released his aura, drawing it around himself like a protective blanket. A storm was coming and he wasn’t quite masochistic enough to want to get burned. Even the fortified layer of nen was not enough to shield him completely from the blistering torrent of power that flashed around him a second later. Hisoka peered over the edge of the beam he was sitting on when the flare finally faded.

 

Below, Illumi stood alone amongst a sea of evaporating corpses.

 

Hisoka pushed off the rafter beam let himself fall unimpeded, landing beside Illumi in a crouch. “Feel better?” he asked, straightening.

 

Illumi frowned at the bloodied state of his clothes and hands but nodded. Senseless murder did as much for his predicament as binge drinking did for the chronically depressed but he did _feel_ a little less like a failure.

 

“Good. You go get cleaned up and I’ll get the cards. Meet you back at the inn.”

 

The operation was wildly successful.

 

Sorting through the hundreds of spell cards he bought, Hisoka counted no fewer than 42 copies of Accompany, 67 copies of Magnetic Force, and 9 copies of Trace. It would be enough to chase Killua to the ends of the earth, were he actually here.

 

Illumi was freshly washed and dress to literally kill by the time Hisoka made his way back to the inn.

 

Hisoka turned over half of the useful spell cards and summoned a copy of Trace. He waited as Illumi tucked the cards into his book. “Ready?”

 

Illumi nodded.

 

“Trace on, Killua.”

 

A growing holographic map of Greed Island glimmered into existence. Hisoka breathed an internal sigh of relief when a stationary red dot blipped to life, marking the location of their target. The real Killua was no doubt long gone by now, which meant that which meant that his conjecture about the rings being the identification factor was correct.

 

“Dorias. He always did like to gamble.” Illumi mumbled wistfully. “We need to run into Killu face to face before we can use teleport to him directly correct?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Book.” Illumi’s book popped out of his ring and he slid a copy of Accompany out of its slot. He allowed Hisoka to usher them out the door. “Accompany on: Dorias.”

 

The rattle of slot machines was the first thing Illumi noticed when they touched down in the middle of a bustling street in the gambling district of Dorias. Normally, the tacky jingles would have annoyed him, but Illumi welcomed it this time. Despite his always abysmal luck, Killua liked to play slots. Nobody else knew, but it was slot machines, not snacks, that had cost the young heir his two-hundred million in winnings from Heaven’s Arena. Illumi only knew because he’d been the one to sneak Killua out to the casinos whenever his brother needed to scratch his gambling itch. He remembered spending many a night watching Killua feed jenny after jenny into a cheerfully beeping machine while getting very little in return.

 

The chances that they’d catch Killua unawares in a casino now, however, were slim to none. Hisoka had resealed the stadium after they’d left to delay the discovery of their crimes so the news of the Masadora massacre shouldn’t have reached Dorias yet. Regardless, Killua was cautious by nature, and preferred running to fighting. Time was more important than secrecy right now.

 

Every player in a kilometer radius shivered as Illumi’s _En_ exploded outwards. Illumi’s brow creased as information flooded in. Despite the bustle, it appeared there were not many real people in this area. The ones that were present were not powerful. There was nothing electric about any of them.

 

“Let’s split up. I’ll take the east side, you take the west.” Hisoka offered when Illumi voiced his disappointment.

 

Illumi nodded and took off without another word.

 

Hisoka moved more slowly. The casinos of Dorias were concentrated in the west side, the residential resorts and luxury bathhouses in the east. Illumi may know his sibling’s habits inside out but he was looking for the wrong sibling.

 

Kalluto’s tastes were expensive and traditional, so the luxury sector was Hisoka’s best bet. It would not take Illumi long to exhaust the hiding spots in the western half of the city, though, so he needed to find Kalluto fast.

 

Outwardly, Hisoka looked as though he was taking an afternoon stroll through the street but his mind was working in overdrive as his eyes scoured every crook and cranny for a clue regarding the youngest Zoldyck’s whereabouts. Had he not been actively looking for it, Hisoka would have missed the discrete string of paper triangles fluttering cheerfully amidst the colorful banners of an Azia inspired inn. The paper strip detached itself from the awning when he reached for it, and fluttered down into his palm where it curled and uncurled as though beckoning him to come closer.

 

“What is your plan?” Hisoka whispered to the paper strip.

 

 _“How long do you need?”_ Kalluto’s voice replied.

 

Hisoka blinked, pleased. Nen was so interesting.

 

“As long as is possible, preferably. Why don’t you take us the scenic route?”

 

_“Illu-nii isn’t stupid. Too much aimless wandering and he’ll figure out it’s a ruse.”_

“Well I know _that_. That’s what the bait is for. What are the limitations of your puppet?”

 

_“It looks, sounds, and moves as Killu-nii would. But it won’t be able to withstand any sort of attack. I don’t suggest letting Illu-nii see it before we are ready to dispose of it.”_

Hisoka paused. That presented a slight problem. Kalluto was absolutely correct in his deduction that Illumi would lose interest in the chase as soon as the behavior of their target became suspicious. If visuals were not an option, they would need another method to convince Illumi that he was chasing the real deal. “Is the puppet detectable using En?”

 

_“Naturally.”_

“How close do you need to be to control it?”

 

_“I can keep it moving from anywhere but I need to be close—within a ten kilometers—to make it act convincing.”_

“That’s enough. Take us the scenic route and keep the puppet moving. Let Illumi detect it before it runs. I will meet you at the rendezvous point before Illumi gets there.”

 

_“Alright.”_

The paper strip fell apart after Kalluto’s final reply, killing the connection. Hisoka let the triangles scatter into the wind.  

 

He waited. Exactly three minutes later, two streaks of light up from the roof of a nearby hotel, speeding away from each other in opposite directions.  

 

Summoning his book, he searched through the hundreds of spell cards to locate the one he needed. The call took only a second to connect.

 

 _“What is it?”_ Illumi demanded, irate.

 

Hisoka took a moment to school the smile from his voice before replying, simply, “He ran.”

 

The chase led them through more habitats than Hisoka thought could fit on a single island. Since neither Hisoka nor Illumi had yet to “meet” the Killua puppet, they had no choice but to either wait until the puppet stopped moving or attempt to predict its next destination before zipping after it. From the azure waters of the tropical beaches to the cragged heights of the snowcapped mountains, Kalluto made good on his promise.

 

The youngest Zoldyck always waited until the puppet was well within _En_ range but not yet in sight before making it run again.

 

Hisoka could see suspicion festering in Illumi’s eyes as they moved from place to place without ever seeing the young heir. But the _En_ evidence was indisputable. Without more information, Illumi had no reason to doubt that the presence he was sensing was not actually his brother.

 

Illumi punched a tree in frustration after the puppet made its third narrow escape. His furious demeanor was out of place in the idyllic lakeside forest setting. Fuming, Illumi summoned Trace again, staring at the moving red dot with laser-like focus.

 

“Something not right.”

 

“Hm?” Hisoka hummed as he skipped a stone into the glassy surface of the lake. “There are many things that are not right, I’m surprised you can zero in on one.”

 

“Killua would have left the island by now.”

 

Hisoka froze. “Would? Are you implying that the electric aura we’ve been chasing does not in fact belong to Killua?”

 

“I do not know. But Killua has to know by now that we can track him. If that’s the case, then he has nothing to gain by dragging the chase out like this.”

“You have a point.” Hisoka agreed, picking his words carefully to avoid sounding like he knew too much, “Killua _should_ have gone by now. At the very least, I’d say it’s safe to assume he’s looking for a way out. He knows you’ll have taken the console he signed in with to Zoldyck manor, so he won’t use Leave. Barring all other explanations, I wager he’s trying to throw us off his tail before escaping from the port in Soufrabi.”

 

A glimmer of mistrust flashed across the dark of Illumi’s eyes as he studied Hisoka.

 

Hisoka did not cave under the pressure _._ “I suggest you go to Soufrabi while I keep tailing him,” he ventured, maintaining his tone of innocence despite the tension.

 

“No.” Illumi snapped. “I’ll tail Killua. He’s slipped away on your watch one too many times. You go to Soufrabi.” The red dot blipped to a stop on the map and Illumi’s attention snapped to it, sharp as a viper. He was gone in a flash of light before Hisoka could say another word.

 

Hisoka fished a copy of Magnetic Force from his Book more slowly as he marveled at his luck. The gods must be on his side today. Nothing else would explain how a technique as transparent as opposite suggestion would work on Illumi. Well, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

Kalluto was waiting in plain sight when Hisoka made his way to their rendezvous point in Soufrabi. The young assassin was beguiling but sharp in a simple black yukata that harkened back to his childhood ensemble. His hair has shorter than the last time Hisoka had seen it, barely brushing the edge of his soft jaw-line.

 

All pretty smiles and wide eyes, one would hardly suspect him of being the manipulative killer he was. The cute bow of his lips stretched into a smug smile as Hisoka handed him a small plastic bank card.

 

“Five-million, in an anonymous offshore account, like we agreed.”

 

“I’m flattered you must think quite highly enough of my abilities to pay up when the riskiest part is yet to come.” Kalluto remarked as he carefully tucked the card into one of his large sleeves.

 

Hisoka smiled. “I like to think of it as an investment in my own self-preservation.”

 

“If you really cared about self-preservation, you wouldn’t be trying to double-cross Illu-nii.”

 

Hisoka laughed. “The same can be said about you. Are all Zoldycks this easily bought?”

 

Kalluto cocked his head, smilingly sweetly even as his pink irises glinted in warning. “Don’t flatter yourself Hisoka. You’ve simply paid me for doing what I would have don’t anyways. There’s a big change coming, and I think you’ll find my loyalties are exactly where they need to be.” He turned as raised his eyes towards the sky. “He’s coming.”

 

As the bright streak of Accompany came into view, Hisoka vacillated between standing his ground and relocating to a more hidden position to ride out the worst of Illumi’s wrath. At Kalluto’s challenging side-glance, though, he decided to stay. Running from volatile situations wasn’t his style anyways.

 

The ground trembled as Illumi landed with all the gentleness of a flaming asteroid. His rage fanned out in a physical shock wave, blowing away anything not firmly rooted to the ground. The last of the nen puppet evaporated like a mirage under the pressure of Illumi hot anger, leaving nothing but the silver ring and the few scraps of paper that had lent it life and identity. Vaguely, Hisoka wondered if it was the nen in the air or his lungs freezing in instinctual terror that made it difficult to breathe.

 

Kalluto beamed.

 

“Hello, Illu-nii. It’s good to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kalluto is my fave. Bless this smol child.


	7. Reunion

The best course of action in situations like this, Hisoka determined, is to stand as still as possible and let the drama unfold around you. The hard part was not letting it drag you in.

“ _What is the meaning of this?_ ” Illumi hissed, voice dragging across the eardrums like a dry desert wind.

“I had hoped it wasn’t true.” said Kalluto, unshaken. His dark lashes brushed his cheek as he closed his eyes in cultured reticence. “Killu-nii told me you were chasing him but I didn’t want to believe it. You know what father said about going after Killu-nii.”

The silver of Killua’s ring popped under the pressure of Illumi’s clenched fist. “I am fully aware of what father said. Don’t change the subject.” He hurled the deformed clump of metal into the dust. “Now explain: w _hat is this?_ ”

Kalluto’s pink eyes flickered as he came to understand that any attempt to derail his Illumi’s rage would only make matters worse. Never had he seen his eldest brother so incensed. Never, in fact, had he seen his brother openly display this much emotion at all. He could try to lie, but given Illumi’s mood, the consequences would be disastrous if he were found out. In situations such as this, honesty was his best option. Well, _selective_ honesty. “A job.” he answered at last.

Hisoka blinked impassively, expression relaxed to the point of boredom to hide the fact that his heart had jumped into his throat at Kalluto’s words. Kalluto had agreed in the contract to keep Hisoka’s involvement a secret. Months of careful planning would come crashing down if Kalluto were to reveal Hisoka’s involvement in Killua’s escapades now.

“A job.” The dripped from Illumi’s lips with such disgust that Kalluto flinched despite his resolution.

The younger Zoldyck swallowed, slowly, to regain his calm. “Yes, I was hired to direct Killu-nii to a specified location.”

For the first time, it occurred to Illumi that Killua’s situation may be a broader issue than a personal mission. Killua had been isolated for so long that Illumi had not given serious thought to the fact that others besides himself would also be pursuing his brother. “Where would this location be?”

“Yorkshin City.”

“And who hired you?”

The air quivered like a bow string pulled overly taut as Kalluto’s lips pressed into a thin hard line.

It was only with the upmost resolve that Hisoka maintained an outward appearance of casual indifference. His mind was racing, conjuring the various scenarios that hinged on Kalluto’s answer. The Zoldycks were too pragmatic to subscribe to artificial codes of honor, but that same pragmatism also prevented them from making enemies unnecessarily. From the information he had, Kalluto had no reason to go back on their agreement. That, however, didn’t rule out the possibility that the young assassin had motivations that he did _not_ know about.

No matter how much foolproof his plans seemed, Hisoka found that the world would always find a way to surprise him. And should Kalluto see fit to betray him now, Hisoka had only himself to blame. His every action had been designed to germinate a series of events whose seeds had been incubating in the Zoldyck subconscious for more than a decade. By provoking the beast, he was forfeiting his immunity to the turmoil that would follow. The thrill of constant vigilance, of needing to think on his feet and talk his way out of quicksand was what had made the entire operation so irresistible in the first place.

Kalluto’s hesitation could not have been longer than a second or two but to Hisoka’s elevated awareness, it seemed to last a year. He wasn’t aware of how tense he truly was until he almost laughed in relief at the single syllable that Kalluto offered in answer.

“Gon.”

Illumi’s eyes narrowed in distaste. It was no secret that he abhorred how much influence Gon had over Killua, and hearing that the island boy was now actively seeking an audience with Killua was not helping. “Gon paid you to turn in your own brother and you took the job?”

Kalluto’s raven hair swished back and forth as he shook his head. “No. Gon paid me to deliver a message. It was Killu-nii’s call whether he went or not.” A pause, “But I’m sure you and I both know that Killu-nii was going to go back to Gon, eventually.”  

Illumi’s aura was still dark with displeasure but the professional basis of Kalluto’s actions blunted the edge of his anger some. There was no denying the Kalluto’s logic: Gon and Killua’s reunion was inevitable. The complication that Illumi had not accounted for was the fact that it would come so soon.

On his own, Killua’s actions were like a river, the course of decision logical like the flow of water from high to low. Simply by following the map of circumstances, it was easy to see what he would do next. Gon’s presence disrupted Killua’s smooth flow with dangerous rapids and sharp turns and backflow. Illumi had spent the better part of Killua’s childhood drilling into him a steadfast sense of survival, but one smile from Gon was enough to render years of training useless. Illumi had been fairly confident in his ability to drag Killua back into the shadows before, but it would be much more difficult capture Killua’s eyes when he was blinded by Gon’s dazzling charisma.

“I take it that your deception was also part of the job,” said Illumi after some contemplation.

Kalluto wet his lips. Lying would be so easy. He could just smile and nod and let his dangerous eldest brother draw his own conclusions so that when their father finally did find out about Illumi’s flagrant transgressions, Kalluto could hide from the fallout behind a wall of plausible deniability.  He could continue his pretense as the benign child, the obedient child. Bet small, lose little.

Except he didn’t spend his life watching and planning from the shadows to continue existing in laissez faire irrelevance. As the last of five children in a family already super-saturated with talent and personality, any favor or attention he’d ever received were scraps that miraculously avoided falling to his older siblings. Kalluto had thought that, given his father’s wariness of them, his joining the ranks of the Phantom Troupe would have caused more of a stir than it had. Silva had indeed expressed his disapproval in the form of a hard, silent frown but Kikyou had waved him away as easily as though he’d come to tell her than they were out of milk. _It’s good for him to start getting out of the house,_ she’d said, _he can’t hide behind my skirts forever._ And so there had been no threats or rueful spats when Kalluto left the lurid household, fading from a silent presence to an absent one.

The lack of consequence that stemmed from his mother’s easy dismissal, however, opened Kalluto’s eyes to a world of nuance that he had never considered. Observing Alluka’s escape from afar only confirmed his suspicions. For all her raving about how ignored she was, Kikyou’s decisions carried enough weight to override longstanding family taboos. That incident also brought another interesting family dynamic to his attention: though his parents were self-serving and power hungry, when push came to shove, it was Illumi who would take action. Which brought him back to the situation at hand.

“No. Deceiving you was my personal choice.” Kalluto said with his head high. He wouldn’t play off his involvement as an unhappy coincidence. If he wanted a share in the future of the Zoldyck family, backing down now was not an option.

As expected, Illumi did not take it well. The eldest Zoldyck stood very still as the air around him contorted in response to his turmoil. His anger seemed to have hit critical mass and was now collapsing backwards in on itself, concentrating into a singularity that threatened to pull in every fiber of his being. Even Hisoka, with his serpent’s tongue, could think of nothing disarming to say.

Kalluto’s admission confirmed the heinous suspicion gnawing at the roots of Illumi’s confidence. Killua’s flight was no longer an internal rebellion bred from the vicarious resistance of youth or morality. Illumi had glimpsed the infirm existence of a larger conspiracy at Killua’s every unlikely escape, but the evidence had been lacking and discordant. The frustration he had felt at his inability to pin Killua down was magnified many orders of magnitude by his inability to see the face of the enemy that would see his mission fail.

Without knowing that, Kalluto had inadvertently named himself the culprit.

Were that enemy revealed to be anyone else, Hisoka was sure Illumi would have removed their head with no further thought. But family had always been Illumi’s Achille’s heel.

After a second passed and Illumi made no move to attack, Kalluto continued. “Illu-nii, I know it looks bad but I’m on your side. I want Killu-nii back as badly as you do and that’s why I did this.”

He took the barest incline of Illumi head as permission to continue.

“I agree with you. I’ve spoken with Killu-nii. He hates assassination more than either you or father accept. He’s not going to come back of his own volition.” Illumi’s hands balled into fists but Kalluto continued, heedless. “And even if you drag him back with pin in his head, you won’t be able to make him take over the family because he doesn’t want to.” He swallowed a steading breath. “And I don’t think Killu-nii should. Take over, that is.”

“It’s not your place to dispute the order of succession, Kalluto. Killua was chosen to carry on the Zoldyck line since birth.” Illumi’s voice was steady as he spoke, but the hard inflection of the _K_ consonants belied the turbulence that brewed beneath the surface. “For the sake of this family, I will make sure he carries out his duty, even if I have to control his every breath for the rest of his life.”

The corners of Kalluto’s lips twitched downward. “In that case, why go through all that trouble? If you’re going to be in control anyways, just take the reins for yourself and cut out the middle man. You may look more like mother than father but you are every bit as much of a Zoldyck as Killu-nii is.”

This time, Illumi did attack, flying across the clearing in a blur of green and black, claws extended. A strong hands gripped his pale wrist before he could make contact, derailing the lethal trajectory of the attack. The sharp tang of iron filled the air as Illumi’s knife-like fingers slid across the round of Hisoka’s turned shoulder, leaving four bloody trails in their wake.

“Illumi, that is _enough,”_ hissed Hisoka through grit teeth. Tucked beneath his other arm, the magician could feel Kalluto’s small frame trembling where he was tucked into the protective hollow of Hisoka’s body. Illumi jerked, hard, but Hisoka did not loosen his hold on Illumi’s wrist. “ _Calm down before you destroy what little family you have left.”_

Illumi struggled ineffectually a little while longer before the livid fog clouding his eyes receded somewhat and Hisoka let him yank his arm away. Indecision flashed briefly across his features as he caught the sight of Kalluto pressed against Hisoka’s broad chest. Hisoka stepped back, not yet relinquishing his hold the youngest Zoldyck. Kalluto allowed the protection, using the minor respite to reclaim control of his body. His face was as blank and porcelain as he watched Illumi's face, eyes glinting like twin rubies.

 

The altercation was over as suddenly as it started. Sensing the danger was past, Hisoka let the arm wrapped around Kalluto fall.

 

Kalluto took a measured step forward, showing no sign of shock or fear. He bowed, “Illumi onii-sama, I did not mean to offend you. Please forgive my insolence.” The gesture and the words were compliant but Kalluto spoke them like a challenge. Illumi had attacked first, and that put him at a disadvantage in further negotiations. It would be risky to continue being impertinent but Kalluto had already stuck his neck out too far to retreat gracefully. If he couldn't convince Illumi to rebel against their father's predetermined hierarchy, or at least ingratiate Illumi to himself in some manner, then his own position in the family would fall even further. Illumi would put another needle in Killua’s head, drag him home at the expense of Silva’s wrath, and forever wallow in denial as he ruled the family from the shadows. Having already verbalized near traitorous sentiments, Kalluto could expect to spend the foreseeable future a wordless and powerless, carrying out his duties with minimal freedoms under Illumi's ever watchful eyes. _No._ Kalluto straightened. _That was not a future of action he would allow._  “That being said, I think I've earned the right to speak in my own defense since you've seen fit to physically attack me.”

 

“I've no interest in what you have to say.” said Illumi as casually as though he were shooting down an idea for a neighborhood picnic. He raised a hand as a new idea occurred to him. “Why don't you go home and visit mother? She misses you.”

 

“Please, I'm sure you'd understand if you would just listen--”

 

“She's very disappointed that you haven't gone back to visit like you promised.”

 

“I'm trying to tell you--”

 

“Letting you go off with the Troupe was a mistake. You were far too young and gullible. They've put strange ideas in your head.”

 

“ _Illumi, shut up and listen to me.”_ Kalluto snapped before he could stop himself. His own mouth clamped shut as the startling resemblance to Kikyou’s sharp verbal slap succeeded in stunning them both into conditioned silence.

 

Kalluto found his voice first. “What I meant w-was,” he swallowed, “I'm doing this to help you. Killu-nii will continue to elude you as long as he has unfinished business to distract him. He'll stop running once he makes up with Gon.”

 

Hisoka watched, dangerously amused, as Illumi's adams apple bobbed once. Kalluto's new spin was more compatible with Illumi's goal but Illumi was not a fool enough to swallow the pandering lie after Kalluto had already spilled his true intentions earlier. To do so would be pulling the wool over his own eyes. While Kalluto lacked the power to actually stop Illumi from continuing to pursue Killua, the knowledge that he was willfully deceiving himself would not sit quietly with Illumi. On the other hand, what was done was done. Killua was already gone and any more time spent arguing about the reasoning behind Kalluto’s actions would not change that. Not to mention, the longer they dallied, the more time Killua had to concoct his own plans to slip back into hiding.

 

Hisoka felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine when Illumi’s mask split into a grin, equal parts deranged and amused. The clearing rang with Illumi’s bell-like laughter. Kalluto stood unmoving as Illumi loomed closer, the minute clench of his jaw the only physical indication of his anxiety.

 

“Well done Kalluto!” Illumi exclaimed, clapping a firm hand down on Kalluto’s narrow shoulder. “The execution was a little rough but your ideas were in the right direction. But you’ve misunderstood something crucial though and that’s why you can’t convince me to leave Killu alone.” He knelt, keeping his hold on Kalluto’s shoulder so that the younger could not avoid his eyes. “You assume that I would be satisfied trading Killua for control of the family but you failed to consider this: why would I want to control this family if Killua were not a part of it?”

 

Kalluto’s chest constricted as he felt Illumi’s swirling irises draw him in, filling his mind. His animal hindbrain screamed at him to look away, to run, but his limbs felt numb, as though they did not belong to him.

 

“Go home Kalluto.” Illumi commanded.  

 

 _Go home._ The words echoed in Kalluto’s mind, growing in immensity until they became a cage in which all his other thoughts were held hostage. In his last moments of lucidity, Kalluto felt his head nod without his permission and a blind panic welled up at the realization that he was no longer in control of his own body.

 

So this was what it meant to be a manipulator.

 

“Good boy.” Illumi smiled and raised a hand to brush aside the silky fringe that fell across Kalluto’s forehead before pressing a soft kiss on the smooth skin, “I love you.”

 

In that moment, Kalluto wanted nothing more than to run, run away and never look back at the monstrosity that was his family. Instead, his lips parted of their own accord and his voice said, “I love you too.”

 

Hisoka felt his cock twitch at the twisted display of tenderness. A perverse smile stretched his lips as he watched the youngest Zoldyck obediently summon his Book and run his glazed eyes over its contents. It did not take him long to find what he needed.

 

“Leave, on.” A flash of golden light and Kalluto was gone.

 

“He’s not going to react well to that once your command wears off.” Hisoka remarked as Illumi straightened.

 

Illumi shrugged. “I’m not too worried. Kalluto’s not like Killua. Kallu has ambitions. He did this because he wants me in his debt and he accepted the risks coming in.”

 

“That sounds fucked up but if you’re sure...” Hisoka suppressed the urge to shiver as Illumi turned his piercing stare onto him.

 

“I am sure.”

 

Hisoka looked away. Kalluto had been a useful accomplice but his part was done. It would not benefit him to waste time worrying for the young assassin. “Would it be fast to sail to Yorkshin from here or fly from your manor?”

 

* * *

 

“Killua!!”

 

Killua’s shoes squeaked against the damp wood of the pier as he spun around, just in time to be tackled by two enthusiastic brunets. “Gon! Leorio!” He yelped with the little air was not squeezed out of him from the double embrace. He felt the ground fall away when Leorio shift his hold and then straightened to his full height, lifting both Killua and Gon into the air so he could spin them both affectionately.

 

At Killua’s embarrassed squirming, Leorio set them down. “You little rascal. Where the hell have you been? Why did you disconnect your phone? We’ve been worried sick about you.” He clucked while he fuss over Killua’s clothes.

 

Killua struggled halfheartedly against the mothering but he couldn’t help but smile. “Careful old man, much more of this and you’ll go from being a dad to a grandpa.” A nostalgic warmth diffuse through his chest as Leorio pulled back, exasperated, and Gon burst into a fit a giggles.

 

“Yeah? Well I haven’t seen my foul-mouth little brat for two years, so I think I’m allowed to be a little excited.”

 

“He’s right. You’ve been gone for a long time. We’ve all missed you.”

 

Killua whirled around, eyes widening. “Kurapika!”

 

Kurapika blinked at the loud exclamation, touching a hand to his golden hair, slightly taken aback.

 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Killua blurted before he could stop himself.

 

The faintest of pinks dusted Kurapika’s cheeks at the question and he averted his eyes. “A lot has happened since you’ve been gone.” The golden glint of fading sunlight on the undulating ocean waves reflected calmly in his dark eyes. “Long story short, I realized that revenge was a never ending affair and I couldn’t stew in it alone forever. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and Gon when you guys ran into trouble with the ants.”

 

An uncomfortable hush fell on the company at the mention of the ants. The hellish events of the not so recent past cast a long shadow, one that Killua wasn’t sure they would ever be free of. Even Gon, with his incorrigible optimism and unfathomably bright disposition was momentarily subdued by the memory.

 

Kurapika glanced in discomfort at the somber mood he’d inadvertently created and cleared his throat, “You’ve grown.”

 

It was true. The blond Kurta looked distinctly more mature in his well-cut black suit but, where once he looked down to talk to Killua, they were now evenly matched in height. Killua fingered the worn hem of his patterned tank top self-consciously. It wasn’t faded discolored or tattered but he couldn’t help but feel raggedy next to the expert tailoring of Kurapika and Leorio’s suits. At least Gon had shown up in normal people clothes. His spiky-haired best friend had finally abandoned his idiosyncratic childhood green jacket and shorts combination, sporting a much more urban style in his faded jeans and fitted, striped shirt. Killua wagered that the change was most likely forced by a physical growth spurt rather than a willing repentance for his crimes against fashion. Knowing Gon, he’d probably worn his homemade clothes until they tore at the seams before acquiescing to the enlightened guidance of modern clothing design.

 

Gon was quick to jump on the distraction. “Yeah Killua! How come you’re still taller than me?”

 

“Because my dad is at least twice the size of yours. Maybe three times. This is just fate.” Killua teased. In truth, he was probably only an inch taller than Gon. Knowing the height Gon would eventually top out, it was only a matter of time before Killua’s height advantage expired.

 

Gon stuck his tongue out, the gesture so familiar despite his older face that Killua’s heart actually clenched a little. “I bet I’ll be taller soon if I just eat more than you. Which, speaking of eating, let’s go catch up over dinner. What do you say Killua? Leorio? Kurapika?”

 

“Ah, yeah. Let’s.” Killua agreed.

 

The walk to the restaurant, a friendly mom ‘n pop diner, was spirited to say the least. Everyone was zinging with nervous energy from having not been all together for so long. One off-handed comment about Leorio’s declining eyesight (the result of long nights poring over textbooks) managed to snowball into an all-around but lighthearted insult fest during which Kurapika proved, once again, that his sharp tongue was as terrifying a weapon as any.

 

The lighthearted banter continued well into dinner, weaving its way through dramatic recounting of the adventures and exaggerated descriptions of oddities they’d happened upon in their time apart. Despite the easy flow of conversation, Killua could not help but notice a pervasive underlying awkwardness that shadowed the table at every turn. Most notable were the short but stiff silences that cropped up when a topic ran out and they floundered to find another. The four of them had been through thick and thin, but not together. The easy comradery of their hunter exam days had grown brittle by too much time apart and too little honest communication. Together, they were like a newborn fawn, wobbling on unpracticed legs despite its instinctual knowledge of how to walk. Had they more time—and perhaps more lax guards—Killua had no doubt that they could renew the close bonds they once enjoyed. But the span of one dinner was not enough to address all the festering psychological wounds buried under superficial wraps of cheerfulness.

 

Perhaps the most noticeable sign of unease lay in Gon’s frequent distraction. Being a healthy, well-nourished boy with more dedication to physical training than the strictest soldier, Gon’s body was well on its way to becoming the paragon of manhood that his powered-up form had assumed. It might have been that the more angular planes of his maturing face wore jollity less naturally than his childhood form but, on more than one occasion, when he thought nobody was watching, the easygoing smile would slip from Gon’s face and be replaced with something… troubled. The look was quickly replaced by a bright grin the moment someone looked in his direction, though, so Killua couldn’t be sure.

 

Besides that, Killua was relieved to find that at least he and Gon still shared the same wavelength. With each new joke and story, the initial discomfort of their reunion melted more and more, like ice under the summer sun, to reveal the bright core of their friendship, untarnished even after so much time apart. The two of them got along like a house on fire, fueled by the excitement of being in each other’s company once again. In the time it took to get used to Gon’s deeper voice and older face, Killua found himself easily laughing with abandon. Two years felt like two days under the magnetic pull of Gon’s charisma.

 

Unfortunately, reality could not be ignored forever and Gon finally addressed the elephant in the room over dessert.

 

“So your brother is coming for you.” Gon’s inflection made it clear that it was statement, not a question.

 

Killua froze, spoonful of ice-cream halfway to his mouth. “Yeah,” he replied simply, lowering the spoon.

 

An uncomfortable glance passed between the three other hunters at the table. Killua did his best to look unaffected but he had a decent guess about what was going through their heads. Illumi was an unpleasant at best and his three friends had met him under poor circumstances. Leorio, especially, had had the misfortune of witnessing the full extent of Illumi’s brutality in the aftermath of election massacre. Gon had been the most infuriated by Illumi’s actions during the hunter exam, going so far as to physically attack him despite the obvious danger.

 

Killua doubted Gon’s feelings on the matter would have changed. Gon had always been one for charging headlong into battles with long odds without any regard for his own safety. This time though, Killua would welcome that recklessness. Even if Gon’s strength was not enough to make a difference in the outcome of the battle, it would be a great comfort to have his friend fighting by his side.

 

“We shouldn’t stick around too long then,” said Gon, gravely.

 

Killua’s fingers fell slack, his spoon clattering against the plate. “What?” Out of all the reactions Killua expected Gon to have, running was not one of them. “The last time Illumi came to get me, the Gon I know broke his arm and then stormed my house. You’re not saying this to mess with me, are you?” Killua’s chuckles tapered off at the serious crease of Gon’s brows. The last time he’d seen that expression on Gon’s face, Gon had been swearing vengeance against Pitou at any cost.

 

“I’m serious. Hisoka warned me that Illumi’s grown much stronger than he was before and that none of us would stand a chance against him. I won’t be able to keep you safe. I don’t like running but we don’t have a choice right now.”

 

Killua felt a tick of annoyance. “What? No. Gon, Illumi is my business. I can take care of myself; you don’t have to _protect_ me. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier but I’m going to stay and fight this time. The longer I wait, the stronger he’ll get, and I can’t run for the rest of my life.”

 

The porcelain of cups and plates rattled in complaint as Gon’s hand slammed down forcefully upon the aged wooden tabletop. “No, Killua! You can’t do something so suicidal! I mean, Illumi might not kill you but he’s going to take you away and I’m not going to be able to save you again!”

 

An ugly shoot of emotion lunged like a viper, sinking its venomous fangs into Killua’s brain until every thought dripped with poison. For a brief moment, he could sympathize with the intense emotional turmoil that turned Kurapika’s eyes from cool slate to blistering red when Kurapika thought about the Phantom Troupe. If his own eyes could change color, Killua had no doubt that they would have at that moment. “That’s real rich Gon, coming from you. What right do you have to talk about being suicidal?” Gon flinched at the acrimony lacing the words but Killua didn’t stop. “And I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not a princess that needs saving. I think my freedom is a worthy cause to fight for.”

 

“You’re not going to get freedom by going head to head with him right now. You’d be offering yourself up as a sacrifice if you go against as you are. He’s too strong for you to win,” said Gon, voice rising.

 

“Oh? Kind of like how Pitou was too strong for you but you went after them anyways?” A mix of regret and relief dogpiled on Killua’s chest at the sight of Gon’s stricken expression. He hadn’t planned on peeling the lid off of that can of worms right now but now he didn’t have to do it later. The eve of their reunion was not the best time hash out years of repressed resentment and anger but, as Gon was so adamant in pointing out, their time together had a fast approaching deadline.

 

Leorio had been looking frantically back and forth between the arguing pair, increasingly panicked as the fighting escalated. He took advantage of the momentary silence to raise his hands warily, “Guys, guys, calm down. We’ve only just gotten back together. There’s no reason to be jumping at each other’s throats—” he trailed off abruptly when Gon shot a pointed look his way.

 

“No. Killua’s right. I had been hoping to have this conversation alone with him later but we’re all friends here so this is as good a time as any.” Gon gestured at the table, the implication being that it could take a while.

 

Killua sat back in his chair, ice cream forgotten, at the serious tone of Gon’s voice. Next to him, Kurapika and Leorio did the same.

 

“Killua. I’ve thought a lot about what happened since we’ve been apart and I realized that I owed you a much more serious apology and explanation than just a casual ‘sorry’ we parted on. That’s why I asked you to meet me again.” He waited for Killua to nod in consent before continuing. “What I did was suicidal, you’re right. I was selfish and stupid and I prioritized my guilt over your wellbeing and your feelings. In the back of my mind, I knew I was hurting you but I couldn’t _stop._ Losing Kite was the first time I ever felt _loss_ like that and I couldn’t—didn’t know how—to deal with it so I let my anger take over.”

 

Thousands of imaginings did not prepare Killua for the effect that Gon’s words had on him. He felt like he was drowning.  Years of yearning and unspoken words piled in his throat like too much flotsam, blocking one another from coming out. Gon continued.

 

“It was easier to lose myself in my anger than it was to feel guilt and sadness. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t the one to physically cut Kite down. The fact that he died trying to protect me made me feel so much guilt that—that I lost it. He was so strong, so respected, and I was nothing. Someone like him didn’t deserve to die for someone like me, and I thought—” Gon took a shuddering breath, “I thought that if I died avenging him, I would be able to make it up to him. So I did.”

 

“No.” Killua could not manage more than a broken whisper. “No, Gon, don’t talk about yourself like that.”

 

Gon shook his head. “Wait, I’m not done yet.” He took another steadying breath. “I had no idea what you did for me after…after I pretty much died. You told me Nanika was the one who saved me but, for the longest time, I had no idea what you went through to get her. I’m sorry Killua. I’m sorry I was selfish and I made you suffer. I want to make it up to you. I want you by my side the way we used to except, this time, I won’t selfish and I promise to put you first. So please, please don’t let Illumi take you away.”

 

A warm wetness prickled at the brim of Killua’s eyes and he wiped furiously at it with his sleeve, secretly glad for the excuse to hide his face. He wasn’t sure what hit him harder, the fact that the apology was everything he’d craved to hear or the fact that straight forwardness of the delivery was so _Gon_. What had taken Killua months to admit he needed, Gon delivered easily in minutes.

 

Killua had missed that in his time away. Alluka’s love had been unconditional and heartfelt, but her familial affection was a poor substitute for the excitement and gratification of Gon’s unabashed honesty. Where Alluka’s love was soft and accommodating, Gon’s was like the sun, hot and overwhelming and capable of reducing its target to a crisp if applied without restraint. Killua had once thought that looking too long into Gon’s light would make him go blind but not having Gon around left his life in perpetual shadow. It would be dangerously easy to nod, to accept the apology at face value return to Gon’s side. But taking the easy route, never addressing the difficult truths or the pain was what had soured their relationship in the first place. Illumi’s obsessive tailing was not an issue that could be swept under a rug and forgotten.

 

Keeping his eyes trained on the ball of his hands in his lap, Killua finally responded, “Gon, do you realize how selfish that request was just now?”

 

He did not have to look up to know that Gon’s brows had furrowed the way they often did when he was displeased. “Listen, Gon, what you said just now was everything I’ve ever wanted to hear. But don’t call yourself nothing because, at one point, you were everything to me.” Ice blue met molten gold as Killua resolutely met Gon’s eyes. “You are my first and best friend. You are the one who brought me out of the shadows and showed me that I had a place in the light. So don’t insult my feelings by calling yourself nothing.” He thought of Alluka’s smile. “That being said, I can’t give you my undivided time and attention again. I’m not a wild brat who can run around and do whatever without thinking of the consequences anymore. I have family who need me. You know, Alluka. And maybe Kalluto.” He clarified at Leorio’s confused expression. “And I should really stop neglecting my other friends. Traveling with you was the best time of life but…but I need to stop being selfish as well.”

 

For a brief moment, the tight draw of Gon’s brows and the aggressive inclination of his torso made it seem as though he was going to argue. But then something seemed to click in his mind and he settled back, calmer. “You have never been selfish, Killua.”

 

Killua scoffed. “My guilt begs to differ.” He shook his head to prevent Gon from saying more on the matter. “Anyways, Illumi is crazy. If I don’t deal with him now, he’ll chase me forever. You might be ok with it since you’re strong but I’m a danger to the people I’m with as long as he’s after me. For the sake of my freedom and the safety of the people I care about, I need to stand and fight. With or without you.”

 

Confidence was a fickle bastard, Killua decided as his bravado pulled a deceitful vanishing act as soon as the ultimatum left his lips. He swallowed as his heart began to slam wildly in his chest, a mixture of catharsis and anticipation.

 

Across the table, Gon was staring at him with unnerving concentration.

 

Just as Killua was starting to wonder if should excuse himself so that he could throw up with dignity, Gon threw his hands up and flopped sidelong onto the table. “Arghhhh, fine.” Gon exclaimed.

 

“Fine?” Killua asked uncertainly.

 

 “Fine, I’m with you.” Gon cracked an eye and a smile. “You don’t have to look so worried, Killua. You know I would never abandon you to fight alone.”

 

Killua resisted the urge to chuckle nervously. _If only you knew._

“I want to have more adventures with you, and if you’re not willing to run, we’ll just have to beat Illumi right?”

 

And just like that, the spell was broken. With the familiar goal of winning an impossible fight, the tension evaporated like dew under the midsummer sun.

 

“I’m with you too!” Leorio crowed, thumping Killua solidly on the back. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be but I’m proud of you for choosing to stand up for yourself. This is a call for celebration. Drinks on me! Eh-ow!”

 

“Count me in as well.” Kurapika added, soft smile giving no indication of the vicious kick he’d just delivered under the table. His eyes flashed sharply as he shot a warning glance at their tallest companion. “It’s a little too early for celebration though. We’re going to need a plan. A good one.”

 

Killua nodded in assent. “I’ve been thinking about that as well. Here’s what I’ve got so far.”

 

Maybe it was the leftover adrenaline but as Killua described, in detail, his brother’s abilities and the four of them argued the finer points of their strategy, a powerful vigor bloomed in Killua’s chest that buoyed his heart and with it, the corners of his mouth. The darkness of Hisoka’s foreboding warnings seemed powerless against the all-consuming optimism of Gon’s smile, the honed gleam of Kurapika’s wit, and the grounded reliability of Leorio’s enthusiastic support. All around Killua, the world seemed to shine brighter even as the last of the evening light bled from the sky. For the first time in a long time, he felt hope.

 

* * *

 

In the end, Hisoka and Illumi decided to sail for Yorkshin straight from Greed Island. The trip would take around five hours, meaning they would make landfall at around midnight. Illumi announced that he was going to sleep as soon as they boarded, leaving Hisoka alone.

 

Hisoka did not mind. Illumi was not the type to discuss his feelings but he was obviously stressed. Anybody would be after the unsettling developments of the past several days. Were they on land, the assassin would probably bury himself.

 

After an hour or two spent wandering the ship, Hisoka made his way to the edge of the deck. The water was being cooperative, and with the addition of a healthy breeze, the ship was making good time. He gripped the wooden rails, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly along the lacquered wood. He thought of very little as he watched the sun slip beneath the natural curvature of the earth.

 

At this point, Killua would have had nearly three entire days to either run or prepare together some sort of counterattack. Since Alluka had been left behind on Greed Island, counterattack was the more likely scenario. With that in mind, Hisoka turned his phone on for the first time in over a month and sent a single, pre-drafted text message. The last piece of willful interference he would run on this goose chase.

 

Even he could not tell for sure what to expect once they made landfall at Yorkshin. With the buds of his many efforts nearing fruition, the future was increasingly out of his hands. He had acted as the catalyst for a string of otherwise unlikely developments but even he couldn’t predict the final results of his chaotic recipe. He had high hopes that it would be explosive.

 

The last of the sun’s rays were making a dramatic exit when Hisoka looked up from his phone, scattering treasure troves of gold over the surface of the water and setting the clouds ablaze with torches of red and orange. Hisoka appreciated the beauty of it with humility. There were not many things in the human world that he couldn’t master when he put his mind to it. Try as he might, however, he could never slow the unrelenting progression of the sun through the sky or alter the current of the ocean. The natural world defied his control and that made it valuable.

 

The longer Hisoka stood at the top of the food chain, the more his objects of interest dwindled in number.  With power like his, money came and went without much effort, with neither an overabundance nor a complete lack thereof endangering his survival. In a way, it was his destructive potential that snatched him from the slippery jaws of avarice. What point was there in investing emotions in material goods when the most expensive of wares could be obliterated by the flick of his finger? People were the same.

 

In the eyes of the general populace, Hisoka was a god. They flocked to watch him fight at the risk of their own lives, but they could not see, much less comprehend his Bungee Gum and the opportunities its power afforded him. Out of the few who understood the magnitude of his power, most labeled him a monster for not caring about the weak that fell when crossing his path. He didn’t care for either the blind worship or the moralistic condemnation. Not that it really mattered. Hisoka had long ago abandoned the ridiculous yearning to be understood.

 

That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t welcome adequate company when it came knocking. Especially when he’d spend months carefully rigging a network of unlikely interactions to manipulate said company into knocking.

 

“You’re awake.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Illumi made no attempt to continue the conversation and Hisoka didn’t push it. They stood quietly by one another as the stars winked into existence against the inky sky. Hisoka savored the tickle of Illumi’s hair against his bare shoulder when a cool, salty breeze licked up from the surface of the waves, their proximity an unspoken token of trust.

 

“What are you going to do? If he’s there?” Hisoka asked finally.

 

Illumi lowered his eyes, “Killua won’t be there. That’s not the way he was raised.”

“You mean that’s not the way you raised him.”

 

 “Is there a difference?”

 

The corners of Hisoka’s eyes crinkled as he smiled good-naturedly, “No.”

 

Illumi made a sound in the back of his throat like a tiny train, crashing.

 

“But what would you do? If he _were_ there?”

 

Illumi scowled, “He won’t be.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Hisoka flipped over so that his forearms were propped against the railing and he could direct his look of exasperation directly at Illumi’s. “Yes but if he _were.”_

“You’re more of an idiot that I thought if you have to ask such an obvious question.”

 

“Then humor this idiot and answer the question anyway. I’m starting to think you don’t want him to be there.”

 

Illumi’s eyelids fell in annoyance. “Of course I _want_ him to be there. I didn’t spend these past couple months traversing the globe with you because I enjoy your company.”

 

Hisoka threw his head back with a bark of laughter. “My dearest Illumi, I know your parents didn’t teach you any manners when you were little but you should never resort to personal attacks to derail a conversation. It’s much too obvious. Now be a good boy and answer my stupidly simple question.”

 

Illumi’s lips pursed in displeasure and he took a step to the side to distance himself from Hisoka’s leer. “Fine. If he’s there—which he won’t be—I’ll take him home as was my goal from the very start. Happy?”

 

“Very. Now how are you going to go about that, exactly?”

 

“I’ll throw him in a potato sack and get on the nearest airship. What do you want Hisoka?” That sounded a little too defensive, even to himself, and Illumi looked away, molars clicking together. His souring mood spoiled even more when Hisoka raised the palms of his hands in a mocking “calm down” gesture.

 

“No need to get so defensive Illu~ I’m only asking for clarification. Last time we did this, you set up an elaborate chain collision, used secret surveillance, made dozens of puppets and had me kill your best butler so that you could corner Killua. Forgive me for finding your blasé attitude this time a little strange.”

 

Hisoka’s penchant for being absolutely infuriating without resorting to insults or unreasonableness was dangerous, Illumi reminded himself. It was important he stay calm. “I have a plan.”

 

“Is the plan to brutally incapacitate Killua, whom you love more than anyone else in the world, and kill anyone that might defend him, thereby breaking his heart?”

 

 _Stay calm._ “So what if it is?”

 

“I never said there was anything wrong with that.” Hisoka countered, thoroughly enjoying himself. The last time they’d joined forces to catch Killua, Illumi had been ready to sacrifice his life for his brother’s. While that love was clearly still present in the deepest clutches of Illumi’s black heart, something else, more interesting and just as twisted, had taken root as well. Hisoka was determined to drag that elusive secret out into the light if it cost him his tongue. “If what you said to Kalluto is true then this is a great plan of action. It will be easiest to turn Killua into your puppet if you paralyze him from the neck down. I’d be glad to do that for you while you keep him distracted… or vise versa.” He added at Illumi’s poisonous glare.

 

“Hisoka, I will kill you right here, right now.”

 

Hisoka beamed, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I would _love_ to see you try.”

 

Were the assassin’s irises a shade lighter, Hisoka would have been able to see Illumi’s pupils blow wide at the threat. Instead, the subtle clench of Illumi’s jaw gave him away. He traced a finger around the bulbous head of a pin. “Do you mean that?”

 

The same chuckle came again, dangerous and low. “Yes, but perhaps some other time. I’d hate to distract from your important day.”

 Illumi inhaled sharply, gripping his needle. “So you do know something.”

 

“I know Gon and I know Killua and I know what the two of them are like together.” Hisoka replied, unworried. He paused. Gon was always a sensitive topic for Illumi, no matter how much the assassin denied it.

 

“Well? Don’t just stop there.” Illumi demanded after Hisoka failed to continue.

 

“Gon will want to fight. It’s in his nature. And Killua will listen.” Which was not entirely true anymore but outdated truths made the best lies.

 

“Killua will not be persuaded to fight me so easily.”

 

Hisoka smirked, a challenge. “I’ve seen Gon talk him into sacrificing his hands for much less. Killua was ready to die for Gon when they faced the ants. If Gon wants to fight you, Killua will stay.”

 

The lack of hesitation in Hisoka’s explanations gave Illumi the unsettling impression that he was a mouse in a quickly closing trap. “What makes you think Gon wants to fight me?”

 

“You’re dragging his best friend through hell. Gon would seek vengeance for a bird who’s been knocked from its nest. He won’t overlook your actions so easily.”

 

The bars of Hisoka’s trap snapped shut. “You say Killua would die for him?” asked Illumi, futile.

 

“Keeping consistent with past experience, yes.”

 

Suddenly feeling more tired than he had in a long time, Illumi let his head fall into the crook of his arm. “What do you suggest I do?”

 

“Well, what do you want?” Hisoka took special care to ensure that his voice was free of accusation or malice. The illusion of empathy was crucial for loosening tight lips. “I’ve been honest with you. It’s time you tell me what you’re actually thinking.”

 

Every fiber of Illumi’s being vibrated with caution, urging him to lie. Hisoka was not to be trusted. He had known that in the beginning. The memory of roller coasters and darkened dungeons sprang to Illumi’s mind as he realized the true goal of Hisoka’s actions too late. He had divulged more than he should have. Perhaps the most alarming was the fact that he didn’t regret it. “I want Killu to willingly inherit the family. I want him to create the future that father won’t.”

“And since you know he’s not going to do that?”

 

Illumi did not answer. From the start, he had refused to seriously contemplate the possibility that Killua would really never return. It had been unthinkable. But now, doubt was eating at him, slow and insidious and Illumi could not _not_ think about it. He had told Kalluto that he was willing to control Killua for the rest of his life but that train of thought did not hold up under scrutiny. Kalluto was right. Cutting Killua out of the picture completely would be much more efficient in the long run if the alternative was to render him an empty figurehead. The truth loomed dauntingly from every direction. Illumi closed his eyes to it.

 

Sensing the chink in Illumi’s armor of denial, Hisoka decided to deliver his finishing blows. It would not be safe to deal this many blows in such quick succession but they were running out of time. Killua’s freedom was not Hisoka’s number one priority but, if possible, he would prefer that the young Zoldyck retained his free will. Fruit that ripened of its own accord was always tastier, after all. “Allow me to make some guesses. Your love for Killua may be fucked up but even you aren’t heartless enough to destroy his mind forever. But you’re afraid because, one day, he will grow stronger than you and then he’ll be out of your reach forever. That’s why you’re working so hard to catch him now, while you still can. You won’t own up to the fact that you want to take over your family because then you wouldn’t have an excuse to keep Killua in the fold.”

 

For once, Illumi did not rise to the bait. He stood very still, a statue of porcelain and ebony under silver moonlight. Hisoka’s ventures were spot on, setting words to feelings that he’d buried deep inside. Given form, the thoughts he’d suppressed began to squirm against his restraints.

 

“Illumi, what are you going to do?”

 

Illumi closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

 

“You should figure that out before we land.”

 

* * *

 

At Kurapika’s suggestion, the whole gang piled into an open top jeep and drove out to the dusty wastelands outside Yorkshin city. Leorio had insisted on driving and Kurapika sat shotgun, leaving Killua and Gon together in the back. Killua’s body ached from days of the grueling training. While he’d been no slacker and had done his best to keep his body at peak condition, the fugitive lifestyle had not afforded him many opportunities to continue his training. God Speed was a formidable ability but the chain shaped bruises coiling up his legs were demonstrative of its pitfalls. He was grateful he had friends who were kind enough to give him hell when he needed it. Nobody, especially not Kurapika, had held back when they sparred. Thanks to them, he was feeling marginally more confident about facing Illumi.

 

In the end, the four of them had not been able to come up with a good plan to defeat Illumi. They had agreed, however, to move out of the densely populated city as to minimize the collateral damage. Their inability to come to a consensus was largely in part because Killua refused to consider killing Illumi. His brother may have been been a constant pain in his ass his whole life but he still couldn’t bring himself to imagine a world where Illumi didn’t exist.  

 

Killua’s apprehension must have shown on his face somehow because Gon reached over and give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

 

“It’s going to be ok.” Gon offered gently. Killua nodded, not trusting his voice to hold up. “Whatever happens, it won’t be the end of the world. This isn’t nearly as scary as going up against the Royal Guard.”

 

Killua chuckled, nervous and terse. “It’s pretty damn close.”

 

Gon’s lips pinched together determinately and he scooted over so that he could properly invade Killua’s personal space. “It’s going to be fine,” he repeated, leaning in so close that Killua was forced to press up against the door lest their foreheads touched. “I’m not going to die and neither are you. I know I said I wouldn’t come get you if you get taken away but we both know that’s not true. You are literally the reason I am alive and I will fight for you until my last breath.”

 

From this distance, the heat of Gon’s amber gaze was unavoidable and all consuming. Killua let it warm him from the inside out, melting his icy nerves.

 

“Me too.” Killua mumbled.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I-I’ll fight for you too.” Killua stuttered, cheeks burning. How the hell did Gon say these things without dying?

 

Thankfully, the car stopped before Gon could laugh at how red he’d gotten.

 

 “Alright kids, everybody out.” Leorio called from the driver’s seat.

 

They waited while Leorio hid the car behind a clump of boulders before making their way to the middle of the flat plateau. Gon and the others stepped back as Killua began to crackle with electricity. Fewer bystanders would be harmed if Killua announced his location and Illumi skirted the city entirely, they’d decided.

 

Something still didn’t quite sit right in Killua’s mind though, and he whirled around to face Gon.

 

“How do you know that you won’t die?” Killua yelled over the sound of his nen charging up.

 

Gon grinned, open and mad. “I don’t think Hisoka would let me.”

 

Killua’s jaw dropped. What was it with people trusting Hisoka? The force of his shock mingled with his electric power, sending the signal high into the sky like a lightning bolt. In the distance, an ominous darkness rose greet it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a lot of talking. Things are finally starting to wrap up! 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr as sphericallyadept!


	8. Yorkshin Pt. 1

Illumi despised that Hisoka was always right. It didn’t make any sense. Hisoka was not the one who raised Killua from infancy. Hisoka was not the one who taught Killua how to push through nauseating pain in silence. Hisoka was not the one who showed Killua how to tear the still-beating from heart from a chest of a living human being. Why, then, was Hisoka the one who could accurately predict when Killua would fight and when he would flee? It was disquieting to realize that, while Hisoka seemed to know everything about the people around him, no one really knew Hisoka.

The magician’s face was possessed by a ghost of smile as they ran through the desert. The only emotion Illumi could discern from the squint of his eyes and the curve of his mouth was indelible amusement. Hisoka had no stake in the conflict that was about to take place. A family-less vagabond who actively delighted in the possibility of death had little to lose in any situation. He was in it for the thrill of it.

Killua’s electric challenge had split the sky with artistic timing. The flash of the thunder-less lightning had coincided perfectly with the touchdown of Illumi’s foot on the pier. It had been miles away but Illumi could swear he felt a shock run down his spine.

He had taken no time to think. His feet were moving before his brain could even process what was happening. The only thing that mattered in that moment was that Killua was there and Killua was waiting for him.

The fastest route to origin of the strike skirted Yorkshin entirely. This was intentional, Illumi realized in hindsight. Killua was trying to draw him away from the populated centers. There was going to be violence.

The idea of fighting Killua burned in Illumi’s stomach like potent alcohol as he darted over the dusty plains.

Drawing closer, Illumi could see the tactical advantages of Killua’s position. To either side, sheer cliffs of sandstone rose vertically, unyielding walls, narrowing the corridor of flat land between them. The walls were tall enough that it would not be easy to escape from their confines if pressed. Killua’s hatsu afforded him great speed and the ability to lethally electrocute his opponents, but his supply of nen was limited. By narrowing the field, Killua could concentrate his attacks over a smaller radius, thereby expending less energy.

There would also be fewer places for Illumi to dodge. It was easier to shoot a rat in a barrel than out in the open, after all.

Belatedly, Illumi cursed that he had not had the foresight to make a few needlemen before going out to meet Killua. He did not need them to win in a one-on-one fight against his brother but Hisoka had said that Killua would have company. Illumi could, indeed, confirm that information as they drew near to the rendezvous point.

The amalgamation of aura waiting for them was massive. Illumi could discern at least four distinct contributors. Each was powerful in their own right, and also pure in a way that neither Illumi nor Hisoka were. Combined, they made for a formidable challenge.

Illumi glanced over at Hisoka again, noting that his smile had grown more wicked he too sensed how powerful their opponents would be. A petulant doubt worried at the edges of Illumi’s mind and he looked away, grim. Despite everything he and the clown had done together, despite all the times Hisoka had assured him that they were friends, Illumi could not feel, with one hundred percent certainty, that Hisoka would have his back should the fight turn ugly.

It was perhaps too late to be thinking of such things.

The cliffs curved, ushering Illumi and Hisoka around one last bend before finally revealing the humans hidden in its bowels.

Illumi was right. There were indeed four people: Killua, Gon, and two others that he recognized from the storm on the Zoldyck mansion to “free” Killua all those years ago. They stood in a trapezoidal formation, with Killua and Gon at the front.

Illumi’s heart sighed at the sight of his white haired brother, a surprising emotion. His footsteps slowed, then stopped, a hundred or so yards away from the hostile quartet. Even from this distance, the animosity on Killua’s face was unmistakable. With no one weaker to protect, Killua was planning to fight with everything he had.

Something cracked inside Illumi at that thought. He ignored it.

To Illumi’s right, Hisoka had also stopped. The magician’s wide mouth was twisted in a perverted leer as he took in the matured strength of Killua’s party. His pleasure was evident in his aura, which spread disturbing and endless, equal parts desire and bloodlust.

Illumi could feel his own bloodlust leaking out despite himself. Some small part of him had hoped that Killua could be persuaded to come quietly. But seeing as Killua had brought a personal army, that did not appear to be the case.

“Killua.” Illumi called out, voice strong with authority.

“Illumi.” Killua replied.

“I will give you one chance. Come back obediently and I will forgive you for running away.”

Killua scoffed. “What good would that do? We both know that Mom’s going to torture me half to death as soon as she gets her hands on me. Forget it. I’d rather die fighting for my freedom than go back to that demented house.”

Well, negotiating had gone exactly as well as Illumi had expected. Distracted, the assassin was only dimly aware that Hisoka was speaking. “Hm?” he asked, having not actually heard what Hisoka had said.

“I said, you go ahead and take care of Killua. I’ll keep the others busy,” Hisoka repeated. The words were spoken with a relish that Illumi did not share.

Illumi nodded. It was the only way.

The magician seemed to vanish then, having moved too fast for the eye to follow, and in the split second in which Illumi’s attention was divided, a bolt of lightning struck, making his world flash white-hot and setting his every nerve alight with pain. The attack was more than enough to render a normal human unconscious, maybe even dead. But Illumi was no normal human and the voltage level had not significantly stronger than the electricity he’d trained with at home.

His eyes narrowed. The strike was nowhere near as strong as what Killua should be able to deliver. That meant Killua was trying not to kill him. An error that he could use to his full advantage.

In the blink of an eye, Illumi was within Killua’s personal space. He delivered a punch that sent Killua stumbling back, away from the rest of the group.

Hisoka materialized just in time to cut off Gon’s path as Gon attempted to help.

“Not so fast, little fruit,” the magician smirked. Without so much as looking to the side, he shot a tendril of pink aura from the tip of his index finger, catching Leorio around the neck as the man tried to sneak past, and throwing him back. Kurapika had also dropped into a defensive stance but the more cautious hunter knew better than to test his luck. “I’m afraid I can’t let you interrupt such a heartwarming family reunion. Dear Illumi’s been looking forward to this for quite some time, you know.”

Gon’s eyes darted helplessly between Hisoka’s gleeful face and the flashing fight taking place behind him. Illumi and Killua were moving so that they had been reduced to streaks of light and dark circling and glancing off of one another. The light was slowly being driven further and further away.

Gon dropped into a fighting stance, choosing to focus on Hisoka. His muscles clenched out of instinct as he scanned Hisoka for potential weakness. Given the magician’s double agency, he had been half expecting Hisoka to maybe take their side in the fight, which was why he did not have a plan in place to fight him. The glint in Hisoka’s eye made Gon feel like an idiot for ever contemplating such an idea.

Gon’s aura flared like a bonfire, half for intimidation and half to power up his attack. There would no negotiating with Hisoka if the magician was itching for a fight. Hisoka’s annoying hatsu was more than capable of making sure no one would make it to Killua if they did not deal with him first. Kurapika, Leorio, and he had a decent chance of winning if they all fought together though. Behind him, Gon could feel his friends steeling themselves as they came to the same conclusion.

Hisoka’s eyes gleamed with malicious intent but he made no move to attack. He simply stood, one hand propped on his hip and the other loosely holding a playing card while he waited to be attacked.

Like the calm before a storm, there was a moment of stillness as a silent plan of attack was communicated between Gon and the two Zodiacs. Then everyone moved at once.

Gon charged forward, fist blazing with nen, while Leorio and Kurapika leapt backward, out of the range of Hisoka’s Bungee Gum. Hisoka quirked an eyebrow at the Zodiacs’ retreat but could only spare them a fleeting thought before Gon was upon him.

When Gon threw his punch, Hisoka noted, a little sadly, that the young hunter had grown out of his habit of verbally declaring his attacks.

The fact that he was an enhancer made up for it though. Enhancers were Hisoka’s favorite because they were so straightforward in everything they did. Their words and deeds were direct and true translations of their thoughts: a rare thing in this day and age, and utterly unlike himself.

As a result, Gon’s attacks were always easy to read. A punch was the most honest and linear of motions, after all.

Hisoka leaned back, sinking his weight into his heel to pivot his body without taking a step, and let Gon’s ‘Rock’ sail harmlessly by, missing his face by scant inches. The surprise attack from behind might have actually connected had Gon been a little better at deceit. Enhancers were honest people, though, who wore their treachery on their face. Hisoka did not miss the tiny smile at the edge of Gon’s lip as he dodged away.

That tiny smile was warning enough for the magician twisted his torso, just in time, so that the fist meant to shatter his spine glanced painfully but safely across the side of his ribs instead. Hisoka caught a glimpse of the closing portal out of the corner of his eye as he vaulted away. It had been opened in a strategic spot: right in his blind spot.  

“Very good~” Hisoka effused as he landed nimbly several feet away. “You three have come a long way, being able to land a hit on me so fast.”

Gon did not reply as he lunged again, two fingers forming the base of his blade-like ‘Scissors’. Hisoka waited until Gon was only a few feet away before crooking his finger, activating the hidden string of nen he’d attached during the previous attack, and drawing the young hunter in. Gon’s eyes widened with surprise as Hisoka’s ‘Elastic Love’ swung him in a narrow circle around Hisoka like a lindy hop twirl, the centrifugal acceleration too fast for his feet to dig into the ground.

Leorio’s fist sprang from his portal with predictable timing, and collided, hard, with Gon’s face. The force of the impact shoved Gon back, directly into the dangerous embrace of a pair of powerful arms.

“But you’ve still got a ways to go if you think the same attack will work on me twice.” Hisoka whispered into Gon’s ear as he crushed the smaller boy against his chest, squeezing the wind out of him with an iron-hard arm.

Gon thrashed against Hisoka’s hold like a dog that resented being picked up. He piked his body in an effort to destabilize Hisoka’s grip but the magician was simply too strong. Changing plans, Gon dropped his legs, and at the same time, drove his foot backward towards Hisoka’s shin. The magician waited until Gon had committed to the movement before dropping him and stepping back, letting the momentum of Gon’s own kick knock himself over. Gon’s face scrunched in frustration as, during his fall, he discovered that his arms had been glued uselessly around his body. At some point, a loop of Bungee gum had also wrapped around his knees, tying them together and destroying all hope of balance. Gon landed with dull grunt, cheek pressed into the dust.

His thrashing redoubled in its efforts but to no avail. The nen tying him up was too strong. “Hisoka!” Gon growled, eyes lit with rage, “ _Release me_.”

Three steps away, Hisoka, with one hand propped on his hip, was the picture of delight as he watched Gon’s struggles. “But you make such a pretty picture, bound and helpless. Like a sacrificial lamb~” Hisoka leaned, casually avoiding the fist that sailed overhead, punching the air where his head had been not a second ago, “Is that how you would like to be killed? Bled into the dirt like a destitute animal?” Gon’s lips twisted open in a snarl and a pleased tremor buzzed through Hisoka. He’d always liked the pure and righteous anger on the faces of his prey just before he tore them apart. It was like an opiate that both dulled the pain of and gave purpose to his meaningless existence. Hisoka craved it. “If not, then you’ll have to free yourself before I tire of watching you wriggle like a worm,” he whispered, honey sweet, before launching himself high into the air.

A distant _Fuck!_ Could be heard as—once again—Leorio’s attack met empty air.

At the highest point of his jump, Hisoka experienced a moment of surprise when a sharp tug on his leg alerted him to the surreptitious chain coiled around his ankle. His only thought before the chain jerked hard, slamming him hard into the desert floor was an accolade for Kurapika. It was not easy to successfully sneak past his guard.

Hisoka smiled, mouth tasting like blood, as the chain jerked again, this time dragging him across the dry desert floor. It was admirable that Kurapika was so resourceful, but two could play this game. Thinking fast, Hisoka dug a hand deep into the packed earth, raking furrows into the ground to slow his slide. The addition of Bungee Gum was enough to bring his horizontal momentum to a jarring halt. He ignored the baleful protest of his body as the force of the chain snapped it body into a taut, painful, string.

A laughing look was the only warning Kurapika had before he then found himself hurtling towards the magician. He looked down in alarm at the string of pink nen stuck to his outstretched hand. _When had that happened?_ There was no time to think as the attractive force of Hisoka’s ‘Elastic Love’ combined with the pull of his own traitorous chain had him sailing through the air too quickly for him to resist.

The nen chain around Hisoka’s ankle evaporated when Kurapika made contact with Hisoka’s fist a millisecond later. The blond could feel his eyes rolling back into his head as Hisoka’s fist drove itself into his stomach like a pillar of iron. Blood filled his mouth.

Nauseous with pain, Kurapika was only dimly aware of hitting the ground like a bag of bricks. Only years of combat experience had him bringing his arms up over his head to protect against the next blow.

He waited for the pain of his ulna snapping but the blow never came.

Instead, there was a sickening crunch as Hisoka’s forearm shattered instead, under Gon’s fist. The force of the attack drove the magician back two steps.

Hisoka’s eyes widened as he looked at Gon. It was not the agony in his arm or even at the power of Gon’s attack that astonished him, but the long bloody stripes peeled out of the undersides of Gon’s arms and legs. The missing pieces of skin were still twined around Gon’s wide torso like gruesome bandages, making it appear as though he had twice the number of wounds as he actually had.

Hisoka deactivated his Bungee Gum and the strips of skin fell to the ground with a wet plop.

Gon was breathing heavily from pain and exertion. His stance was hunched but grounded, arms held wide and tense at his sides as though he was preparing to tackle Hisoka. His aura blazed gold.

In that moment, Hisoka felt genuine regret at having engaged Gon so soon. The young hunter had grown into an impressive fighter but he still needed a decade before he could take Hisoka on in a fair fight. That being said, a taste of Gon’s progress had Hisoka’s blood singing for murder and he was sorely tempted to devour Gon now. Hisoka groaned. Patience was a virtue, he reminded himself as he restrained his roiling bloodlust. He would have his fight in due time.

Another portal flashed open, directly underneath Hisoka’s jaw this time. Hisoka allowed his head to snap back with the punch so that he could grab the fist with his good hand.

Even from a distance, Leorio’s yowl of pain was ear-piercing as Hisoka crushed his hand with the easy nonchalance of crushing an empty soda can. In one fluid movement, Hisoka bodily dragged Leorio through the portal and flung him none too gently onto the ground next to Kurapika.

Hisoka grinned, fanged, at the three injured hunters. “Now that we’re warmed up, what do you say we fight for real?” 

* * *

 

Killua was in trouble.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught occasional glimpses of his friends’ plight, but his own situation was too grim to allow him the luxury of sympathy. He really wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he decided to fight Illumi. What kind of outcome had he been expecting?

Perhaps it was just that he’d been away from home for too long and had forgotten how monstrous his family truly was. Illumi seemed to be intent on reminding him.

While their engagements up to that point had been nothing more than glancing blows and tense stand offs, the fact that Illumi’s natural speed could almost keep up with ‘Godspeed’ was testimony to how inhuman his brother had become. The gap between them was growing nearer and nearer with each bout and Illumi hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. Even so, Killua noted as he dodged a punch that left a small crater where he’d been standing, Illumi was also being cautious.

Neither of them were willing to kill the other. While that restraint slightly hindered Killua’s plans, it severely limited Illumi’s repertoire of attacks.

Illumi’s most dangerous moves involved his needles but he had not yet reached for them. Killua himself had yet to try to striking Illumi with lightning again, but that was more because his aim was not yet honed well enough for him to direct large electric attacks while moving at high speeds. His best option was probably to let Illumi catch up and then fry him using a point blank strike. The danger with that, however, was that Illumi would then be close enough to counterattack by sticking a needle in his head.

Killua was unsure of why Illumi hadn’t attempted it already but he could only assume that implanting subtle mind control involved more finesse than the brain shattering assault with which Illumi created his needlemen.

Mind control was not something Killua was willing to chance. Knowing his brother’s twisted mind, Illumi would likely force him to kill his own friends as some sort of perverse punishment. Killua felt a new pang of desperation at that thought. Dragging Gon and the others into his mess was a mistake.

He didn’t have time to wallow in regret, however, as Illumi charged again, forcing him to dodge inelegantly towards the side. Illumi’s face was the picture of insouciant calm even as his attack missed, but just barely, and Killua utilized the split second window of opportunity to send a shock his way, as much defense as offense.

Killua mentally cursed his own stupidity as he stopped a hundred feet away. As expected, his own attack had not landed, but even if it had, he doubted the inadequate voltage would have done much damage. The shortsighted bravado that had deluded him into believing that standing his ground was a good idea had long ago evaporated in the face of Illumi’s seemingly limitless aura.

_Do not fight anyone stronger than you._

The phantom voice of Illumi’s erstwhile hypnosis echoed through the chambers of Killua’s memory, sending a cold shiver through him. _Well it’s much too late for that,_ he thought, wryly. The old advice did have one good point though: when faced with someone stronger, he should run. And run Killua did.

Illumi’s hands closed around empty air once again as Killua flashed away. The white haired heir screeched to a stop, breathing heavily, at the base of the monolithic sandstone walls. He gulped, trying to restore moisture to his dry throat and quell his rising panic. He had been aware of Illumi’s plan to run him into a wall as they played their game of cat and mouse but he had lacked the ability to avoid it.

Though maybe it was good that he had to stop running now. Godspeed did not require as much electricity as his thunder bolt, but at this rate, he was going to slowly run out of aura, which was as good as delivering himself bound and gagged into Illumi’s hands.

“How much longer are you going to run, Killua?” Illumi called out, as though reading his thoughts.  

“Shut up.” Killua snapped to cover up his lack of a plan.

The pathetic attempt at avoidance did not escape Illumi’s notice and Illumi smiled, smug. “This will be much easier for you if you’d just come quietly. You’re the Zoldyck heir. You belong at home, learning the skills required to lead the family.” A yowl of pain momentarily distracted them both and Killua couldn’t help but look over at his friends. His stomach bottomed out at the sight of Kurapika’s crumpled body, Gon’s torn skin, and Leorio’s broken hand.

“I don’t understand why you go to such lengths to keep such pitiful company.” Illumi remarked, also looking.

A small flame of righteous anger lit in Killua’s chest at Illumi’s callous comment. His friends were here risking their lives for him and he was wasting their good graces by continuing to be a coward. “Don’t think too hard about it. I wouldn’t expect a fiend like you to understand something as good as friendship.” Killua snapped back.

Illumi’s eyes hardened. “There’s nothing to understand. These ‘friends’ of yours have made you weak and delusional. You’re better off without them.”

“I’d rather be weak and delusional than be a heartless dick like you.” Electricity curled around Killua’s body in jagged streaks, casting strange shadows across his face with its inhuman iridescence. His hands clenched into fists. If defeat was certain, then he would run towards death. That was a place where even Illumi could not follow.

Illumi did not respond to the insults. He rarely ever responded to anything that didn’t directly insult the Zoldyck name. “Very good Killua.” he cooed instead, referring to the resolve in Killua’s ice-blue eyes. “Those are the eyes you should have. The eyes of a killer.”

The dusty desert air filled with the scent of ozone as columns of lightning swept over the dry plains, frying everything in their path as they closed in around Illumi from every direction like bars in a quickly contracting cage. From the front, Killua hurdled towards Illumi head-on, an incandescent force of nature.

Illumi laughed when the bars of his electric cage converged upon him into a single pillar of scorching light, like a judgment from God, linking earth and sky.

He was still laughing as his arm whipped up, fast as a snake, to catch Killua’s hand on its way to tearing out his throat. Killua’s eyes widened as he felt the delicate bones of his wrist grind and crumble in Illumi’s grip as Illumi yanked him through the air like a rag doll.

The pain made his eyes prickle but that was not what made his heart sink in fear. Up close, Killua was able to see the black but transparent film of _nen_ that laid over his brother’s skin like a thin layer of oil. Time seemed to halt as he watched his electricity corrupt and blacken before fizzling into nothing as it came into contact with Illumi’s protective aura. The next second, he was rolling, skin tearing on thousands of sharp pebbles as Illumi send him bouncing along the unforgiving ground. Killua heard the crack of his ribs before he felt them breaking when he finally stopped by slamming into the sandstone cliff.

The younger Zoldyck’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s as he pushed himself onto unsteady feet using sheer willpower. His wrist and ribs roared in protest but he was too lost in despair to register their protest.

_His hatsu could not hurt Illumi. Nothing could._

“What the hell was that?” Killua breathed, barely louder than a whisper.

For a moment, Killua thought that maybe Illumi had not heard his question but then Illumi’s lips curled in a smirk and his aura flared up like a black flame. “It’s called growth, Killua. It’s something you would be more familiar with if you’d stop fooling around and apply yourself to your training.”

Killua’s eyes slipped shut as truth he’d always known pierced his heart like a dagger of ice. He couldn’t beat Illumi. He had never been able to beat Illumi and he was never going to be able to beat Illumi.

Despite his best efforts, Killua could not control the shake of his hands and knees as he heard Illumi’s footsteps crunch closer, assured in their victory.

He was going to get taken away and, this time, there would be no escape.

Killua felt like a child again as Illumi’s cold hand slipped into his hair, rubbing soothingly his scalp. It was a gesture Illumi had often performed when he was younger. In the early days of his training, when he had yet to become immune to the bone-wracking pain, Illumi had stroked his hair to give him something else to focus on. It had been a gesture of comfort. It had been a gesture of control.

“Killua.” Illumi said simply, and Killua wanted to cry. He could feel himself drowning in the familiar dark waters of his brother’s power as it rose to meet him. It dulled his thoughts and pulled him in, pouring into him from every orifice. A sweet suffocation.

 _Just give in._ The water whispered. _Why struggle when everyone is just thinking of what’s best for you? There is no point in dragging out a game whose outcome was already decided. Illumi will forgive you. So will Kikyou. You’ve been wild for too long and now, it’s time to go home._

“KILLUA!”

Killua stirred, confused. _Who was that?_

“KILLUA, DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP!” the voice yelled, strangely distorted and sounding very far away.

Where was it coming from?

 _Don’t pay any attention to that_ , the watered insisted, pouring into his ears like cotton. _You don’t need friends._

 _Friends?_ The word made Killua feel nice. Warm. _I have friends don’t I?_

 _No!_ The water twisted, angry. But it was too late. Killua’s eyelids fluttered open slowly as a hint of himself returned. He couldn’t go home. He couldn’t go away because he had friends who needed him.

“Gon.” Killua whispered.

And like a lightbulb exploding, the spell of Illumi’s hypnosis broke.

“You promised you would go on more adventures with me!” Gon continued to shout from where he was wrestling with Hisoka. “I won’t forgive you if you break that promise! So buck up and keep fighting!”

Illumi felt true anger as he watched the lucidity returned to Killua’s eyes. Why was it that the stupid island boy was always getting in his way? Gon was like a cockroach scurrying annoyingly underfoot, constantly avoiding death but not knowing better than to stick around. Illumi was going to _crush_ him.  

The needle was out of Illumi’s hand, flying like a rocket propelled by killing intent, before Killua could even scream. It soared, straight and true, faster than a bullet. By some unfortunate coincidence, Gon and Illumi’s positions were such that there was nothing between them that might have served as a shield. There was no time, even, for Gon to dodge. His eyes flashed once to indicate that they’d registered the needle’s existence but there was not time for him to harden his nen around himself like armor, not before the needle found its mark.

The world narrowed to the space between two heartbeats as every fighter in the area felt their attention inescapably drawn to the macabre flight of Illumi’s ill will.

Nobody breathed. There was no sound.

Then, as though in slow motion, the sleek metal collided with flesh and time returned to normal.

The veins on Hisoka’s forearm bulged with the effort of absorbing the needle’s inertia as he plucked it from the air, a mere foot from Gon’s unflinching face. The burn of heated metal and acidic nen dissolved the skin on the magician’s palm, turning his grip bloody.  

Nobody moved as Hisoka threw the needle down, embedding it deep into the ground. His gaze was hard as he looked at Illumi. He did not say anything. He did not need to.

The fact that he had saved Gon was enough to confirm what Illumi had been suspecting since the night they’d found Killua’s campsite buried under a hundred tons of shale on a Japponese mountain.  

“What? You didn’t think he was actually on your side did you? You couldn’t have really believed that he was your _friend_?” Killua whispered cruelly as he wrapped an arm around Illumi, drawing him into a back hug that might have been intimate had Killua’s bloodlust not saturated the air. He did not miss the way Illumi tensed, stiff as a board, at the word ‘friend’. Illumi felt the hairs on his nape stand up as Killua tightened his grip, cutting off escape. “Hisoka’s the one who’s been sending me ahead while leading you by the nose like a blind donkey. What makes you think he’ll let you take what he wants from him?” Illumi’s body jerked as Killua’s blade-like hand slipped with practiced ease between the fifth and sixth rib of his back, right below his heart. “You can hurt me all you want but none of us will _ever_ let you hurt Gon.”

The last thought that Illumi had before ten thousand volts of electricity flowed directly from Killua’s palm into his body was that Killua was being quite merciful, burning his heart before it had a chance to hurt from the betrayal.

The world turned white.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c
> 
> The next update should come in a week or two if nothing gets in the way. Watch out for it!


	9. Birthright

Being dead was bizarre, but not all that bad, Illumi decided. At the very least, it didn’t hurt. That might have had more to do with the fact that he didn’t have a body more than anything else though. The fact that he could still think and, for lack of a better term, _see,_ was what made the whole experience strange.

The world around him was nothing like the physical world.

It was dark, which he had expected, but the darkness was more of a tangible substance than a lack of light. It twisted and flowed like gasping tendrils of smoke, as far his metaphorical eye could see. Illumi looked down at where his body should have been and was rather unsurprised to find nothing but more darkness.

He felt warm though, and utterly at home, as though being one with the swirling darkness was what was right and his time in the realm of the living was the anomaly. His mind, a homeless host of thoughts, appeared to still be self-aware. Even now, he was still himself.

Having never been the type for self-contemplation, Illumi decided that living or dead, the best course of action was to scout out his surroundings and figure out where the boundaries of this new world were. New challenges presented themselves with that decision.

Without any landmarks to break the monotony of black, it was difficult to pinpoint where he was and what direction he was facing. Did space and time even work the same way? It was impossible to tell.

Curious, Illumi tried to turn around the way that he would if he had a body and was pleased to see that the smoky patterns of his surroundings changed along with his movement. The concept of space existed then. If he could move, then perhaps this existence would not be too different from his previous one. He had no legs but he could still remember the sensation of putting one foot in front of the other, the roll of weight from his heel to the ball of his foot. He attempted it then, stepping through the dark space, and was rewarded with the distinct sensation of movement.

Illumi felt as though he were an ocean current as he ‘walked’. He was one with the darkness and yet he could move through it, not at all unlike underwater streams that flowed despite having an identical composition to their more stagnant counterparts.

There was no telling how long he moved, or whether time existed at all. Occasionally, he suspected that he was getting lower in elevation, which was equal parts interesting and absurd. It seemed ludicrous that the afterlife would have geography, and yet he could think of no reason why it shouldn’t. Illumi descended for a few minutes—or a few years for all he could tell—before the monotony of his surroundings finally gave way to something more interesting.

As the last tendrils of black parted, Illumi found himself breathless at the sight of a river of light, burning its way through the black backdrop. Like a moth towards a flame, Illumi felt himself drawn towards it. He moved without caution. What was the worst that could happen? He was already dead.

Getting closer, Illumi could see details that he could not discern from a distance and it was with a jolt that Illumi realized that the light wasn’t light at all. It was electricity.

More specifically, it was _Killua’s_ electricity.

With that, the last of the pieces fell into place and Illumi finally understood. 

The darkness around him wasn’t death. It was his life, his aura, his nen, _protecting_ him from death.

He took a moment to let the realization sink in. He’d heard, before, of nen that grew stronger after death but this was the first he’d heard of nen that protected its wielder from death. It had been obvious that his nen had been evolving as of late. A near death experience must have been what it needed to complete its transformation.

Though he had no evidence to back it up, Illumi had an inkling as to what his new powers may be. The idea felt like a half-forgotten memory, at once foreign and familiar. The hunch egged him on as he gazed at Killua’s nen. With only a moment more of contemplation, Illumi plunged forward into the bright river.

He watched, transfixed, as his nen spread like ink through Killua’s light, tainting it, claiming it. The takeover did not feel like it did the previous times. He could actually feel his nen acclimate to Killua’s power, merging with it until he felt as he’d transmuted it himself. Instead of breaking apart and disappearing, the stream of white electricity crackled black as Illumi continued to pour himself into it.

With a silent cry of manic triumph, Illumi gathered the stolen power around himself like a crazed lightning storm before sending it back to its source.

The first touch of tainted electrical energy had Killua’s aura reeling in confusion. It felt as though the current he’d been sending into Illumi’s heart had been… reversed, which made no sense. Killua yanked his hand from Illumi’s back with a yelp when what felt like _his own electricity_ sent painful spasms up his arm. He jumped back, breathing hard, to a safe distance to ogle in disbelief at his charred arm.

Without Killua’s support, Illumi’s body crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. The wound in his back was a disturbing dark hole. Whereas normal wounds hid their shape under a flood of gore, the hole in Illumi’s back was disconcertingly blood-free, the torn flesh having been cauterized shut by electricity.

All around Illumi, everyone stilled as they watched his body warily for signs of life. Slowly, their eyes were able to detect the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the twitch of his neck, the faint clench of his fingers. They all agreed then, without uttering a word, that the man lying innocuously in the dirt, whose lungs still drew breath despite having been electrocuted from the inside, could only be described as a monster.

Only Hisoka was excited by this fact.  

Fear was a pestilence that infected the minds of everyone sane when Illumi’s eyelids flicked open like a camera shutter, revealing darting black irises. Nobody moved as the eldest Zoldyck pushed himself to his feet. The slow but steady movement was like a scene from a horror movie: the unholy resurrection of an undead being.

Illumi blinked a few times to clear the vertigo spinning his head.

The world had not changed in the time that he was gone, but everything looked different somehow. There was a luminescence about living organisms that had been invisible before. While he always been able to see the auras of trained nen-masters, he could now clearly discern the gossamer shroud of life-energy that surrounded even the insects crawling at his feet. Illumi peered down at his own hand, clenched and unclenched his fist. There, a millimeter above his own skin, was his nen. It swirled like a skein of soft and deadly smoke, so tangible that he was sure he would be able to grasp it if he only tried.   

Illumi looked up. He could see everyone else’s nen with profound clarity as well. Not necessarily a good thing, he decided as he caught sight of the way Hisoka’s fuchsia colored gum peeled off of him in pleasure.

While Illumi was not the type to be melodramatic when faced with pain and betrayal, the memory of Hisoka’s treachery burned acrid in Illumi’s throat like the raw flux of stomach acid after vomiting. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine how it would feel to snap the smug string of Hisoka’s bubblegum nen along with the fibers of his overlarge muscles. The claws at the ends of fingers lengthened with bloodlust, but he forced them back. As much as he itched to send Hisoka into a perpetual hell of torment, any sort of satisfactory retribution would have to wait until later. He had wasted enough time letting his emotions get the best of him. Securing Killua took top priority.

Nobody was allowed to get in the way.

Gon was the first to attack. The little island hunter had always possessed the fewest reservations about attacking opponents much stronger him, and that idiosyncrasy was not about to change just because Illumi was appeared to have come back from the dead. But even Gon, with his headstrong and reckless demeanor, was not suicidal enough to go for a close range attack.

Illumi sensed the fiery sheet of hatsu before it even fully materialized. He didn’t bother to dodge. The needle of pure nen materialized between his fingers as easily as if he’d been conjuring them his whole life. It flew like a ghostly arrow, striking the Gon’s ‘Paper’ in midair and sinking into it like a blot of ink. Faster than the blink of an eye, Illumi’s nen overwhelmed Gon’s. He was much much stronger after all.

It took no more than an afterthought to send the hatsu hurtling back in Gon’s direction with the speed and power of a small meteorite. The scent of burnt flesh and singed hair redoubled as the rebounded attack hit its target square on.

Taking advantage of the distraction Gon’s smoking body provided, Illumi let loose three more needles before anyone else could think to attack. He aimed for torsos as they were easier to hit and killing was not his top priority at the moment. All he needed to do was put Killua’s friends out of commission until it was too late for them to intervene.

A choked off scream announced Leorio’s retirement from the battle but Kurapika was not so easily pinned. The Kurta’s downfall laid, unfortunately, in his own competency. His conjured chain intercepted the needle with practiced ease, the result of countless days spent deflecting bullets and shrapnel. What Kurapika had not anticipated, however, was the way the Illumi’s nen needle bled into his own like a blood transfusion upon contact, tarnishing the conjured metal and manipulating it into noose around the Kurta’s own throat. Kurapika did not fight the darkness when it came. His chains dissolved along with his consciousness. 

What did come as a surprise to Illumi was the heavy thud of Hisoka’s body hitting the floor. The assassin’s eyes narrowed. His straightforward attack was something Hisoka could have easily dodged. He should not have gone down so easily. A brief glimpse of the malicious smile that gilded the magician’s lips had every alarm bell going off in Illumi’s head.

Something was very wrong.

Distracted as he was, Illumi didn’t sense Killua’s attack until it was almost upon him. Even as he swung his arm up, Illumi knew that there was no safe way to block the attack. With Killua as close as he was, Illumi’s only option was to grip his brother by the head and use his superior arm length to prevent Killua’s bladed hand from spearing his heart.

His hand closed wrapped around Killua’s forehead, and from his palm, Illumi released a mind-numbing pulse of manipulative nen.

The effect was immediate. Killua’s limbs dropped, reduced to dead weights while his brain underwent a hard shut down. His eyes, still open, were glassy, the furious light burning so strongly a moment before extinguished like a candle flame before a hurricane.

With a gentleness that few knew he possessed, Illumi carefully laid Killua’s body onto the ground. He retracted his claws before prodding softly at the artery in Killua’s throat, searching for a pulse. Shorting all of a person’s neural activity the way he just had came with the very real possibility of killing the victim or leaving them permanently brain dead. Illumi had faith that Killua was more resilient than most but it was still with a twinge of worry that he felt along seams his brother’s skull, massaging at the pressure points to stimulate his nerves. It wasn’t until Killua groaned that Illumi let out let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Satisfied that Killua would eventually make a recovery, Illumi slipped two fingers into a narrow pocket sewn into the inside of his jacket and withdrew a thin fiberglass tube. Inside was needle he’d had custom made for the sole purpose of controlling Killua. It was thin as a strand of spider’s silk, and just as agile, but still strong enough to pierce through the skull. It would not be nearly as easy to remove as the last one, having been designed to weave deep into the cerebral cortex where it would be lost amid a jungle of neurons, impossible to relocate.

With it in place, Killua would never disobey again.  

Hovering over Killua’s unconscious body, Illumi paused as he was struck by a powerful feeling of déjà vu.

Killua’s translucent hair was plastered over the side of his cheek in sweaty clumps. His brow was pinched, as though in pain.

It was a look that Illumi was intimately acquainted with. Years ago, when Killua’s childish psyche still responded to pain with fear, he had often suffered nightmares. On nights when the dreams were especially gruesome, Killua had sought comfort in Illumi’s room.

A few times a month, Illumi had awoken with the feeling that he was being watched to find Killua lingering sheepishly in his doorway, a quiet plea in his eyes. And though he knew that his softness was detrimental for Killua’s development, Illumi had never sent him away.

Illumi could still recall the way relief washed over Killua’s baby-round face when he would scoot over to make room for him on the bed. Those nights, he never returned to sleep himself.

The nightmares that drove Killua to seek comfort at Illumi’s side had always continued as soon as he fell asleep again. Illumi would spend the rest of the night seated beside him, stroking his pale, sweat-soaked hair soothingly as he drenched the pillowcase with perspiration and tears. In the morning, Killua would leave with an unspoken agreement that neither of them would speak of the encounter.

The nighttime visits became less frequent as Killua got older, but the dreams themselves grew more vicious. The night after Killua killed a political insurgent and two young children, he had thrashed so violently in his sleep that Illumi had been pushed out of the bed entirely.

Illumi had realized two things as he stood to the side and watched Killua beg and plead and apologize to his ghosts. One: talented as he was, Killua was not suited to a life of murder. And two: he himself was not as empty as he’d thought he was.

Slipping the needle into Killua’s head had been an act of compassion. With his nen, he quieted the guilt that plagued his brother’s dreams and lent him the cold void necessary to kill without feeling.

Killua’s eyes had been empty when he woke the next morning. He became a marvelous assassin. The nighttime visits stopped.

Illumi had tried not to feel anything.

He had known that tampering with Killua’s mind was what drove him away. The last time, he’d done it out of necessity, and this time too, it was necessary. It was necessary for the future of their family.

But though Killua lay unresisting before him, Illumi could not order his hands to drive the needle in. Instead, he sat and studied Killua’s face. It was older, more angular and gaunt than the last time he’d seen him. His hair, wave strands of moonlight, made him appear older still. In comparison, Illumi’s full cheeks and unlined brow looked almost childlike in comparison. How much must Killua have suffered to age so much in so little time?  

A faint whine slipped from Killua’s lips, catching Illumi’s attention.

Killua’s eyes twitched madly beneath his eyelids as cold beads of sweat dripped down his temples anew. His dried lips parted in silent gasps. Somehow, in his unnatural sleep, Killua was having a nightmare.

Making up his mind, Illumi gripped Killua’s jaw, stabilizing his head. The sooner the needle went in, the sooner Killua would be free of whatever was terrorizing him.

The words came before Illumi had a chance.

“No…” A feverish plea.

Illumi frowned as Killua’s head jerked, hard, against his grip.

“No... please—”

Illumi’s pulse quickened. He shook his head, forcibly quashing the squirming guilt in his chest. Now was not the time to let his emotions interfere.

He reached forward, carefully positioning the tip of the needle against Killua’s skin. _For the sake of their family,_ _Killua had to be controlled._

“No!”

_He could not be allowed the freedom to feel weakness,_

“Please don’t—”

_Or love._

“Aniki!”

Illumi snatched his hand back like he’d been bitten. Years of loneliness, of suppressed frustration and disappointment, came bursting forth, unlocked by a simple cry of ‘brother’. He stood, as though trying to physically distance himself from the backwash of sentiment. _Even you aren’t heartless enough to destroy his mind forever,_ Hisoka’s words from earlier echoed unpleasantly through his mind. _Because then he’ll be out of your reach forever._

The irony was not lost on Illumi as he dropped his needle and staggered away. As per usual, Hisoka was right. The simple truth that he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself was that he craved Killua’s love. Wanted it to be given freely again, as it once was. ‘I love you’ didn’t mean anything when spoken by a puppet, and yet, here he was, one step away from turning Killua into just that.

He would have laughed at the absurdity of it all had his world not devolved, once again, into lightning and ozone. Even with his _Ten_ protecting him the best that it could, Illumi could feel his cells acquiescing to the power of the attack. The destructive potential was on a completely different scale than what Killua had been able to deliver. The human body was 65% water and Illumi had never been as aware of that fact as now, with electricity conducting through his blood, his spinal fluid, the gel in his eyes.

Agony was not an adequate descriptor of what he felt. His body had moved beyond that. The electric signals racing in his nerves were no match for the overwhelming power coursing through the rest of his cells.

There was only one man in the world with this strength. From that man, though, this level of admonition was nothing more than cursory chastisement. It took all of Illumi’s willpower and nen to force his heart to keep beating until his father’s hatsu finally crackled away. He took a breath before turning around. It seemed that the consequences of his actions, which he’d purposefully ignored, were finally catching up to him.

“Father.” Illumi greeted determinedly, the roughness of his vocal chords the only sign of the toll the electrocution had taken on his body.

“Illumi.” Silva replied in kind. The Zoldyck patriarch’s face was set in a severe frown, the muscles in his brow clenched in displeasure. Standing at nearly two meters, with muscles growing out of his muscles, Silva’s presence was intimidating at the best of times. This was not the best of times.

Silva’s eyes were like chips of ice as they bore into his. Illumi dropped his gaze to the ground in deference.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Illumi asked, a lame attempt at delaying the inevitable. The question he truly wanted to ask was ‘ _who told you?’_ But he had a feeling he already knew the answer to that one.

“Don’t try to be funny with me Illumi.” Silva intoned in the voice of a judge sentencing a criminal, “I’d thought you’d been acting strange for a long time now, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. I very specifically ordered that nobody pursue Killua. Not only did you ignore that command, but if I get here just in time to see you trying to kill your own brother.”

Illumi flinched. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“ _Silence_.”

Even though his father was not a manipulator, Illumi felt his jaw click shut against his will at Silva’s command.

“I may be getting old but my eyes still work fine. Your lies will not help you now.”

The accusation was like a slap to the face. Illumi felt the urge to protest again, but the sight of his father’s hands, balled into brick-like fists, silenced him.

 “I’d always given you more freedom than the rest of your siblings because, out of all you children, I had thought that you were the most responsible. That you would act in the best interest of the family. I see now that I am wrong.”

Indignation welled up, quick and seething. “Everything I’ve done—”

“ _Everything you’ve done is tearing this family apart._ ”

Illumi’s head snapped up, eyes glaring mutiny.

Silva met his challenge unflinchingly. “Everything you do fosters resentment. Your mother and I have worked hard to promote peace between you siblings but your messing with their heads and making them hate you makes that very difficult. You are going to come home with me. And you will remain in solitary confinement until you can prove that you can abide by the same rules as the rest of us.”

“I did what I had to for the good of the family.” Illumi grit out, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The most his parents had ever done to promote peace was leave the rest of their children to Illumi and the butlers so that they themselves were seldom disturbed.

“No, you do what you _want_ to. Look around you Illumi.” Silva gestured at the litany of crumpled bodies crumpled. “What good do you see coming out of this? You’re my eldest son and I know you better than you know yourself. I know you were planning to break Killua’s with your nen and you’re a fool for thinking that that would have worked.”

“Oh really? Care to tell me what else you know?” Illumi spat, surprising himself. He wasn’t usually one for running his mouth but he figured he deserved a break, having been fatally electrocuted twice in the last twenty minutes and all. The dam of filial respect corralling his rebellious ire was cracked and leaking fast.

Silva’s brows had risen in surprise as well. Illumi knew he should stop before the damage became irreversible but the first trickles of a deluge of resentment had seeped out, and try as he might, Illumi could not staunch the flow.

“How well could _you_ know Killua seeing as you’ve interacted with him maybe a dozen times by a generous estimate? You named him heir because he has white hair and blue eyes but you never stopped to think for a moment about whether he was fit for the job, or if he even wanted it.”

Silva’s gaze darkened, menacing. “Killua is the most talented child this family has seen in generations. I will not tolerate your challenging the authority of my decision.”

Illumi scoffed. “You’re right. That’s why he’s laying here, passed out alongside these pathetic plebeians he calls friends. Killua has the aptitude for greatness. But he doesn’t have the heart. He doesn’t want it. And if you’d paid any attention to him, you’d know that. _You’re_ the fool if you think that Killua would ever submit to the leash of the Zoldyck name of his own volition.”

“Illumi.” The air crackled with electric authority. “Watch your mouth. I didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“You’re right, _Silva._ You didn’t raise me to be like anything. You didn’t raise me at all, just like you didn’t raise any of your children. There’s a reason all of us turned out like mother, after all.”

The between the two Zoldycks swelled with aura as Illumi’s anger spilled out of him like unrestrained jungle growth, words and nen and malcontent mingling into a poisonous miasma. “Killua isn’t going to come back by himself. Killua isn’t going to take over the family unless someone forces him to because he never wanted that job. If even I can stop lying to myself then surely you can too.” Illumi’s voice rose as a tidal wave of emotion reared in his chest, eclipsing his rationality. There was a kind of power in truth that transmuters and manipulators instinctively shied away from for fear of its rash, unbridled strength. That power poured through his limbs now, chaotic and irrefutable. “And if you’re not willing to sacrifice anything to bring Killua home, then do me a favor and stay out of the way when I do, because mother misses him and _I miss him too_.”

A bone deep conviction revealed itself to Illumi at that moment. He may not have it in him to destroy Killua’s mind but he was still strong enough to drag Killua home and keep him there until he loved him again. Silva’s disapproval was an obstacle but his father was human and fallible like the rest of them. In this world, the strong made the rules and the weak obeyed them. Illumi just had to be stronger. 

Sparks spat and fizzled as Silva suddenly found himself caught in a riptide of aura that tore at his limbs in every direction. Almost too late, he drew his own nen to the surface, forming a protective shell before he could be ripped apart. When had Illumi become so strong?

Silva didn’t have a chance to dig through his memories for the answer, however, as he barely had enough time to cross his arms over his head in a protective x before Illumi’s kick landed with the clout of a small comet. Decades of experience hardened his body with _Ken_ before the thought even occurred to his brain. While that did prevent his bones from buckling under the offensive, combined with the force of Illumi’s downward impact, the hardening had the adverse effect of causing Silva’s legs to be driven into the packed earth, like a nail struck by a hammer.

The massive disadvantage afforded by his momentary immobility revealed itself to Silva a split second later when Illumi flashed behind him, faster than the eye could see, and landed a solid kick to the center of his back. Like a tree being pulled up by the roots, Silva found himself uprooted and careening through the air. He flipped midair with feline-like agility so that, with a spray of dust and pebbles, he landed in an upright crouch. The landing itself was not so difficult but the bright flare of agony that bloomed in response to his movement was worrying. Despite the nen he’d fortified his torso with, Illumi had managed to fracture a set of vertebrae in his spine. The injury wasn’t enough to put him out of commission but he had to be much more careful.

Silva hadn’t wanted to have to use his hatsu again but Illumi’s incomprehensible hostility gave him little choice. It made him think back to the text message he’d received from an unidentified number hours earlier. 

_19:46_ **Unknown:** _Come to Yorkshin. Your children are going to kill each other._

The warning had seemed so absurd that Silva had had half a mind to disregard it as a wrong number. A niggling doubt, however, parental instinct maybe, had him on his private airship within the half hour instead. He’d questioned the validity of his reasoning the entire flight until he’d detected the ripples of power from Illumi and Killua’s fight.

Long, snowy hair fanning out with static, Silva concentrated his aura into his palms, building two silvery bombs of energy.

Illumi had always tread the fine line between assassin and sociopath, always causing more casualties than were called for, Silva rationalized. He had long dismissed it as an unfortunate but necessary byproduct of his son’s nen type. He had relied on Illumi’s strong sense of duty to restrict his violent urges to his assassinations. But things had started getting out of control after Killua ran away and now Illumi was losing his mind.

Silva ran, dodging needles right and left as he waited for his bombs to power all the way up. The Zoldycks were ruthless assassins willing to kill anyone for money, but they did _not_ kill for sport.  As the head of the Zoldyck household, Silva felt it was his responsibility to keep his children in line.

When he was confident that he had led Illumi sufficiently far away to avoid catching Killua and company in the blast, Silva let his bombs go. The first of the bombs took on an elliptic trajectory, carving a deep furrow out of the earth as it pursued Illumi from behind, shepherding him into the path of the second.

Illumi could feel his hair stand up as the blistering bombs drew nearer. While he could not sense magnetic fields the way migratory animals could, he knew the massive moving charges created a magnetic field strong enough to prevent his metal needles from flying straight. His father had thought this out.

At the last second, Illumi leapt straight upwards so that the two balls of nen collided with each other. The collision exploded into a blanket of electricity that covered the ground beneath him, rendering it untouchable. A hunter’s trap, waiting to broil the body of its prey.

Had this fight taken place even a day earlier, Illumi would have admitted defeat right then. But what his father didn’t know was going to cost him. At the apex of his leap, Illumi materialized eight needles of pure nen and sent them plunging into the glowing trap. By the time he landed, his invasive nen had claimed for him a patch of ground safe to stand on. The rest of the power was his within his next breath.

Taking a page from his grandfather’s book, Illumi willed the stolen electricity into a long, sinuous dragon before sending it careening back towards his father.

Silva scarcely had time to be confused before he found himself face to face with the gaping jaws of the dragon. Unthinking, he shot another current of electricity forward in defense. He watched in horror as the dragon swallow his hatsu, body swelling as it absorbed the extra power.

Unable to run or defend, Silva could only brace himself before the dragon’s coils closed around him. After a lifetime of wielding electricity, electrocution had very little effect on Silva, but the addition of Illumi’s caustic bloodlust made his skin burn where it came into contact with the dark energy. Unwilling to feed the beast more, Silva coerced his unwilling body into a painful state of zetsu. He could not tell if the roaring in his ear was the flow of power or the rush of his own blood.

The hardness under his knees was Silva’s only clue that he’d fallen. When he could finally open his eyes again, he saw his hands, pressed against the tan desert floor. He was on his hands and knees. It was a posture of defeat.

Illumi seemed to think so as well, since he did not attack again.

Instead, Silva felt a cool, feminine hand grip the side of his bicep. He looked up to see the face of his wife.

Illumi stood, unmoving, at a distance as Kikyou helped Silva into a sitting position. Perhaps it was an illusion caused by the white hair but Illumi was suddenly struck by how old his father looked. How exhausted.

Kikyou made sure that Silva was comfortable before she straightened up to look at Illumi. She had abandoned her huge skirts for a somewhat more practical ensemble of tight-fitting black pants and a loose silk blouse adorned with aristocratic ruffles. Her long black hair was spun up into an elegant twist on the back of her head to accommodate travel. Desert wasteland or no, however, the heel on her boot remained a stubborn, four-inch spike. They left divots in the ground as she walked towards Illumi.

“Mother, I don’t know what to tell you.” Illumi whispered when Kikyou was close enough to hear.

“Shhh.” Kikyou shushed as she pulled him into a loose hug that smelled of jasmine and night candy. “You don’t have to explain. I’ve been watching you since the clown told me what you were doing. I saw everything.”

Illumi nodded and cast a dumbfounded glance in Hisoka’s direction. Hisoka had not moved from where he’d fallen, likely pretending to be unconscious as he listened in on the drama around him.

“Thank you, Illumi, for what you’ve done for me. I can take it from here.” She finished, the usual shrillness of her voice replaced with an authoritative warmth.

Illumi nodded again. “Yes mother.” He stepped back when she released him.

“Silva.” Kikyou said, turning around.

“Kikyou, Illumi’s lost his fucking mind—” Silva started. He fell silent as Kikyou raised a hand, halting him.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take Illumi’s side this time, dear.” She announced to his perplexed face.  “He’s right. Killua was never going to do what you planned for him. That was why I never wanted to let him leave the house or make friends in the first place. I never brought it up with you before he escaped because I thought I could handle it on my own. I never thought you’d be so out of touch that you’d let him go and still expect him to come back.”

Silva’s face darkened. “He wouldn’t have felt the need to leave in the first place if Illumi hadn’t gone into his head.”

Kikyou chuckled like mellow brass bells. “The fact that you can say that is testament to how little you understand, my love. Out of all our children, Killua’s is the most like you. But even though he inherited your soft heart and calm temperament, he never felt any responsibility towards us. He only ever saw being heir as a burden, and one that he was unwilling to shoulder at that. There was never a future there.”

“What are you saying?” Silva asked. His eyes widened, part astonishment and part dread, as Kikyou lifted her visor delicately from her face, revealing her seldom seen eyes, round and black like those of her eldest son.

“I’m saying it’s time you give up on Killua and name a new heir.” Kikyou’s voice grew deep as she reached for her own nen for the first time in years. Her gaze was a black holes, hypnotic and inescapable. “I understand that the Zoldyck family has its own tradition for succession but, in my culture, it is the birthright of the eldest son to inherit the family. Illumi may not transmute electricity, but his ability to steal and use the nen of others has transcended the realm of manipulation. One percent of manipulators and conjurers become Specialists later in life. I believe that is what has happened here. Also, as of just now, he has defeated you in battle. With that, he meets all the requirements to be the next head of the family.”

“Kikyou, no.” Silva whispered, but it was too late. The tendrils of her hatsu had already taken root in his brain, planting her suggestion into his brain as though it were his own idea. 

“Silva, I love you.” Kikyou said, softer, as she crossed the distance between them again. “You have given me a life better than that of my wildest dreams and, for that, I am forever grateful. But I have given you five beautiful and talented children. I think I deserve to put my future in the hands of someone who has my interests in mind, don’t you think?” She knelt, cradling Silva’s jaw in her thin hands as she directed his gaze into her eyes. “You will forgive me eventually,” she instructed, “But first, you will name Illumi heir.”

Silva’s eyes glazed over as he gave over to Kikyou’s hypnosis. She stood, taking his hand and helping him to his feet. “Go on.” She encouraged when Silva remained quiet.

“Illumi.” Silva said, devoid of inflection. “You have proven yourself to be more than capable of leading this family. I hereby declare you the eleventh head of the Zoldyck line.” He paused. Kikyou dug her nails in ever-so-slightly. “I’m proud of you son.”

“And I am too.” Kikyou gushed lovingly, releasing Silva’s hand to rush back to Illumi’s side. Illumi stiffened a little as her arms closed around him again. The embrace was near identical to every other one she’d ever given him but more predatory somehow. “Oh and,” She drew back and lifted her right hand to cradle Illumi’s head, the gesture soft but the grip jarringly strong. Illumi’s heartbeat quickened as her eyes found his. “I think it’s best that you let Killua go and don’t think about him anymore, alright darling? You don’t want him distracting you from your new duties, after all.”

Kikyou’s power was a monsoon storm that railed against Illumi’s mind, searching for cracks. It found its opening in his continued devotion to her. Once inside, Illumi could feel her power pull his mind open like a drawer for her to drop her words in. Already, before he’d even forgotten that her idea was not his own, he could feel himself dissociating from the terrible passion that drove him to attack Silva. The memories that he prized became desaturated as Kikyou’s influence washed the color from them.  

Slightly panicked, Illumi grasped at his nen but to no avail. His mother’s hatsu phased through his own like a ghost. His mother’s hypnosis was not physical. He could not touch it. Conscious and aware, Illumi could do nothing as Killua’s brightness waned, his once vibrant image fading to a shadow.  

“That’s my good boy.” Kikyou smirked when Illumi finally nodded. Caressing the side of his face one last time, she slipped her visor back into place and walked away to where a small fleet of butlers were helping Silva into a black Mercedes. “Clean up here and then come home soon! Don’t keep me waiting too long!” She called shrilly before ducking into the car as well.

Illumi stared after the car long after it had disappeared from sight. Soft footsteps approached from behind.

“You planned this.” Illumi stated simply, too tired to be angry.

“You flatter me.” Hisoka smiled, “All I did was gather the actors and prepare the set. You were the director of this rather exciting play.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

_Why did you tear my life apart? Why did you take away everything I cared for? Why did you give me so much more in return? What do you stand to gain from this?_ “Why did you do this?”

Hisoka tapped the tip of his index finger to his chin as he pondered his answer, the picture of an impish child being asked what sort of mischief they’d like to wreak on a lazy Saturday afternoon. “Because I could.”

Illumi couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or cry. Hisoka’s answer meant everything and nothing. The magician wore masks upon masks; layered illusions upon illusions. Was an inscrutable maze filled with trap doors and mirrors and quicksand. “Did you do this to make me hate you?”

“That depends. Do you hate me?”

Hisoka’s eyes gleamed, drops of polished amber, as he scrutinized Illumi’s face.  “You don’t have to answer that right now. You don’t have to answer that ever if you don’t want to. You know how to reach me if you do.”

Under the light of the unloving moon, Illumi Zoldyck swore that he’d never felt as hollow as he did watching Hisoka’s retreating figure flicker and disappear, the last familiar fixture in his life swallowed by the billowing dust of the wastelands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you find errors. I do not have the motivation to edit this on my own anymore. Thank you for reading!
> 
> And as always, come talk to me on tumblr at http://sphericallyadept.tumblr.com/


	10. Kukuroo Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the hisoillu finally happens.

For weeks, Illumi willed himself to not think. He threw himself into his work with unprecedented fervor until the stench of blood and death clung to him like a lover, refusing to dissipate despite the perfumed bath waters he drowned himself in nightly.

 

Kikyou had wasted no time in bragging to the world about the change in family hierarchy. Within the week, everyone who was someone knew: the Zoldyck family had a new head, and he was more ruthless, powerful, and insane than any that came before him. Illumi fueled the fires of gossip with a deluge of blood. His kills became increasingly gruesome until he left the scene of every job painted red.

 

It was sloppy work, he knew, but Illumi could not resist the urge of violence that seized him in moments of killing. There was a hole where his love for Killua had been and strange manners of alien rage crawled through it, demanding meritless destruction. Not being allowed to miss Killua was a simply a different kind of torture than not having Killua near.  

 

At night, Illumi stared at his reflection in the large mirrors of his newly upgraded bathroom and saw a skin stretched over a humanoid void. The hollowness demanded passion that he could not supply, and sucked away all other feeling in retaliation.  

 

The aloofness that came in the wake of rage left did nothing to ease the suspicion with which the remaining members of the family regarded Illumi with.

 

There had been a feast to celebrate his promotion.  It had been an elaborate affair that had both strained their chefs and the carrying capacity of their dining tables to their limits. Kikyou had made sure every available flat surface had been crowded with cakes and savory pies and whole roast animals: everything she knew Illumi to enjoy. She had even pulled her best gown out of storage for the occasion, and decorated the drab dining hall in festive colors. Amidst the chilly reception of his fractured family, however, Illumi had found the food to taste like sand.

 

In fact, aside from Kikyou, the rest of the family—with the exception of Milluki, whose devotion to food won out over his caution—had treated the whole thing like a funeral. And perhaps it was one, Illumi mused. It was the death of the sacred system that had allowed them to pretend that a gathering of manipulative murderers could live free of infighting. The death of the façade that they were a functional family. Nobody knew how to relate to each other in the new alignment. If it was possible to seize leadership by force, what wasn’t?

 

The worst part was, Illumi didn’t even know who to blame.

 

On the one hand, it had been Hisoka’s meddling that brought about the drastic state of affairs. Hisoka had been the one to bring the bait, set the trap, and leave a tantalizing trail of breadcrumbs for Illumi to follow. On the other hand, Illumi recognized his own responsibility in having willfully ignored all the warning signs in his blind quest to pursue Killua. His attempts to avoid Hisoka’s traps had been meagre at best. That was on himself.

 

Hisoka had brought the materials but Illumi had built the bomb, now, in the aftermath of the explosion, Illumi hadn’t the faintest idea about how to clean it up.

 

The one small mercy fate saw fit to grant Illumi was the smooth exchange of power from his father to himself. The Zoldyck butlers catered to the will of the family members without reservation, but they were also an autonomous force of highly competent individuals that prevented the destructive household from falling into complete disrepair on a regular basis. Tsubone, who had been promoted to head butler after the loss of Gotoh, was the one who delivered the news to the rest of the staff. Nobody had challenged Illumi’s ascension. Orders from the head of the house were rare enough that it would not affect their day to day duties.

 

Kikyou’s omnipotent micromanaging took care of the rest.

 

The only real difference was that high profile jobs were now accepted and distributed via Illumi’s discretion. Illumi accepted everything. Business was booming.

 

And yet.

 

Illumi stared, unseeing, as the water swirled the blood off his hands into the porcelain basin.

 

No matter how many throats he slit and how many bodies he vandalized, Illumi could not distance himself from that night in the dust-filled plains. The memories turns haunting him, even in sleep. The pain of Killua’s hand entering his back; the heat and static of Silva’s electric wrath; the desperation he’d felt as Kikyou stole away the strongest love he had, and with it, his sense of purpose; the helpless defeat that settled into his abused chest as Hisoka walked away as if the whole thing had meant nothing to him, replayed over and over in Illumi’s mind like a bad movie.

 

Hisoka’s last words dogged heels of every thought.

 

_Do you hate me?_

Did he? Even now, Illumi did not know. He’d spent many sleepless nights trying to focus his anger upon Hisoka, to lay upon the magician the blame for the nebulas of confusion and despair that plagued him. But like the conniving magician he was, Hisoka had laid defenses even for a battle that he was not present for.

 

The more he examined Hisoka’s plans, the more begrudgingly impressed Illumi became. Every innocuous word camouflaged a thousand devious intents, deception blending seamlessly into deception until it was difficult to imagine that Hisoka was anything less than clairvoyant. How was it, that in the time they spent together, Hisoka had managed to come to know him so well when he was still near clueless about Hisoka?

 

The worst part, however, was not that Illumi was unable to muster the hatred he desperately wished to feel, but rather that his mind was inexplicably and continuously drawn towards memories of pleasantries when he thought about Hisoka. Each time he tried to fixate on Hisoka’s lies—all too clear in hindsight—Illumi found himself thinking instead about roller coasters and videos games and days spent talking about everything and nothing in a dank cellar cell.

 

That too must be part of Hisoka’s plan.

 

Dragged back and forth between anger and reminiscing, Illumi came no closer to answering Hisoka’s question.

 

Did he hate Hisoka?

 

He certainly hated what Hisoka had done. Hated the way Hisoka had lured him into treacherous schemes by dangling Killua in front of him like a treat in front of a dog. Hated that Hisoka conferred with Kikyou to take Killua away from him. Hated that Hisoka was the one who forced upon him the title he’d always craved but at a price he would never have agreed to.

 

But now that price had been paid and Illumi found himself adrift with no one to turn to. (Another thing about Hisoka that he hated, Illumi thought bitterly, was that he was not here now.)

 

Illumi sat down on his bed and sank his claws into the comforter beneath him. The fabric was soft and smooth and expensive. The best money could buy, really. But he couldn’t help but long for days he’d spent sitting in a hard cot with the weight of Hisoka’s head of in his lap.

 

_Stop Illumi. Don’t think about that._

 

With a soft thud, Illumi fell backward onto the bed. Hisoka would probably smile if he saw him like this now. It would be that smile Illumi hated. The one that was smug and confident and somehow still attractive despite the way it made Illumi feel as though he’d lost a battle he didn’t even know he was fighting.

 

More than once now, Illumi wondered what that smile would feel like, under his fingers. Under his lips.

 

_Don’t think about that._

Illumi’s eyes snapped open and he redoubled his efforts to focus. It would be easier to ignore the unpleasant things he didn’t want to consider without Hisoka’s nasty habit of verbalizing all the nasty truths Illumi preferred to leave buried. That was another thing he hated: the way Hisoka seemed to see through him despite the wall that managed to keep everyone else out. Seemed to know exactly what to say to have him frothing at the mouth or icing over in an instant.

 

Hisoka would know what to say now. Would have the words to calm the rage and fill the emptiness and make him feel better. But comfort came at the price of manipulation and Illumi hated that he still wanted it.

 

_You know how to reach me._

 

Illumi took his phone out of his pocket and glared at it. Still, sitting in his room and running his mind in circles would not give him the answers he needed.

 

(It was a good excuse. One he almost believed.)

 

_1:13_ **_Illumi:_** _Come to Kukuroo Mountain._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The taxi driver was trembling by the time she finally pulled up to the massive Zoldyck gates. Hisoka pressed his lips to the ten-thousand jenny bill in his hand, leaving a fuchsia kiss print before handing it over. It was far too much for the half hour ride but he figured the poor girl deserved it. If the prospect of driving up to the murderer’s nest was not enough to faze her, the predatory aura emanating from the backseat surely was.

 

Hisoka stepped out of the taxi, and let the door swing shut. The taxi screeched away, leaving Hisoka frowning in a cloud of dust. He patted his costume, a pristine white with pink card suits, to dislodge the dust. The suit was sure to be destroyed by the end of the night but he had wanted to look immaculate when confronting Illumi. The snowy fabric would make for a beautiful canvas.

 

The minor irritation faded as he turned to face the impending gates.

 

Wide hips swayed beneath a snake-like waist as Hisoka sauntered up to the nested doors. The ‘testing gates’ as Illumi had called them. Each set twice as heavy as the last. Unlocked and free to admit any strong enough to open them.

 

Planting his palms firmly against the worn stone, Hisoka mused, briefly, that heels may not have been the best footwear for heavy lifting before pushing forward with all his strength. Two-hundred-fifty-four tons of rock and iron slid open without so much as a creak as all seven gates opened. Feeling flashy, Hisoka sent a powerful pulse of nen through his hands, sending the gates flying about their hinges and slamming into the wall to announce his arrival with an earth-rattling boom.

 

There was nobody in sight, but Hisoka could feel dozens of pairs of eyes watching him as he strode brazenly onto the Zoldyck estate.

 

He turned his head, searching for one particular presence.

 

Illumi was…not there. Hisoka frowned. He was about to cast his En when a pair of petite girls stepped out from behind the towering oaks. Both carried matching ebony canes topped with brass orbs. Maces, Hisoka thought, albeit with a tasteful and modern twist.

 

He recognized their auras. They had both fought to defend Killua during the Alluka hunt.

 

The girls bowed. “Master Hisoka, we have been expecting you.” The dark-skinned one said, “My name is Canary and this is Amane. We will be your chaperones for the duration of your visit. Before we take you to see Master Illumi, we must ask that you cooperate with the terms we are about to give you.”

 

Hisoka felt a tremor of interest towards the twin sets of hard eyes pinning him in place. He nodded.

 

“Though you are an honored guest, you are not to act out while on the premises,” the other girl, Amane, warned, “We butlers are prepared to lay down our lives at a moment’s notice to protect the Zoldyck family. Any suspicious actions will be grounds for apprehension and, potentially, death. Do you understand?” They waited for Hisoka to nod his agreement. “Good. Please follow us.”  

 

The trio trekked along the wooded grounds in silence. The butlers were well trained in transporting dangerous personage, and had split up to sandwich Hisoka as soon as the path narrowed. In front, Canary was the picture of poise as she marched, head high and shoulders straight. Hisoka could tell she was nervous though, by the way her head shifted ever so slightly towards every small noise.

 

Briefly, Hisoka entertained the idea of killing her. It would be easy. One fast, clean slice to send her head rolling into the dirt, dead before she even knew what hit her. Illumi deserved it for summoning him and then forcing him to wait needlessly.

 

Behind him, as though telepathic, Amane cleared her throat in warning. 

 

Hisoka gave up the thought. He’d worn white and it wouldn’t do to dirty it before he even saw Illumi.

 

He sensed the assassin before he saw the clearing. To either side, the trees were thinning out as they progressed, letting through more and more of the round harvest moon’s silvery light. Canary and Amane moved to walk at his sides as they breeched the clearing.

 

The butlers bowed. “Master Illumi. We have brought Master Hisoka as you directed.”

 

Perched on a rock in the middle of the clearing, Illumi regarded them with glassy eyes. “Good. Now leave.”

 

Amane’s head flicked up. “But Mistress Kikyou commanded—” She was cut off as a needle whistled past her cheek, carving a shallow, bloody groove out of her pale skin before burying itself into the tree behind her.

 

“I will not repeat myself again. Get out of here and make sure no one else comes to disturb me. I will kill anyone that tries to interfere.”

 

Amane dropped her eyes to the ground. “Understood.” There was a coordinated flash of black, and she and Canary were gone.

 

Hisoka scarcely registered their retreat before Illumi was upon him. Hisoka threw his arm up hastily, fortifying his forearm with a concentrated cast of nen to prevent it from breaking under the force of Illumi’s kick. “What, no pleasantries?” he grit through the nauseating pain.

 

Illumi responded with a narrowing of his eyes. He pushed off hard, forcing Hisoka to stumble back half a step. The most graceful of acrobats, Illumi remained impossibly airborne as he summersaulted backward before setting his feet onto the ground in a delicate landing. The slight wobble the followed would have been imperceptible to the untrained eye but had Hisoka’s brows drawing together in an annoyed crease.

 

“There is nothing to say.” Illumi said.

 

Before Hisoka could respond, Illumi lunged again, aiming low this time. Prepared, Hisoka shot a string of Bungee Gum into the sturdy boughs of oak behind him and pulled himself away, barely escaping the deadly swipe meant to sever his legs at the knee.

 

“I beg to disagree. There is so much for us to talk about.” He tipped backwards off the branch, swinging himself down to the ground with his Gum. The needle meant for his head crashed noisily though the foliage above. “I can start us off if you don’t know how. Business seems good since you took over. Your jobs are making the news. I’d say congratulations except publicity isn’t exactly good for an assassin’s image.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Another needle sang through the air and Hisoka twirled behind the thick trunk of his tree to avoid it.

 

“You used to be marvelously discrete. I wonder what happened. Is Kalluto still not speaking to you because of what happened on Greed Island? I can see why that would be upsetting. With Killua out of the picture, he must be your new favorite.”

 

“ _Shut up.”_ Illumi’s head whipped around as he scanned the trees for a glimpse of pink and white.

“Or maybe it’s your father. How is the old man doing? It must have been quite a shock, being betrayed both by the love of his life and his own flesh and blood.” Hisoka’s voice taunted from behind.

Illumi’s eyes widened. “How—” The rest of his question died in his throat as a playing card materialized, razor sharp, to dig meaningfully against his jugular.

 

Taking advantage of Illumi’s stillness, Hisoka pressed forward until Illumi’s stiff form was cradled against his chest in a dangerous embrace. Hyper-aware of the card against his neck, Illumi made no move to stop the long fingers that brushed into his loose hair, pulling it back from his ear.

 

Staring straight ahead with unfocused eyes, Illumi did his best to ignore the quivering eagerness that the scent of Hisoka’s cologne sent fluttering through his stomach.

 

He swallowed. Now was not the time to think about such things.

 

Hisoka’s thumb snuck under the hem of his collar to brush at his collar bone and Illumi stopped breathing.

 

“Or maybe, just maybe,” Candy colored lips brushed teasingly over a burning ear, “you missed me?”

 

Heartbeat thrumming in his ears, Illumi abandoned all caution as he twisted in Hisoka’s hold and jabbed his hand through the magician’s chest. Immediately, he could tell something was wrong. There was no resistance of flesh or hot gush of blood, no dismembered organ beating furtively in his palm. There was only a flurry of movement as the outline of Hisoka’s silhouette sagged and bulged in all the wrong places before dissolving into a swarm of bewildered butterflies. A few of the more unfortunate insects wiggled, dying on Illumi’s claws. He flicked them off with a swish of his wrist, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat in traitorous relief.

 

“So you did miss me!” Hisoka’s voice laughed from all around. “I missed you too Illu~ I was so worried you’d never call!”

 

Illumi’s head spun as he twisted about, trying, and failing, to locate the source of Hisoka’s voice. “Why the hell are you hiding? Get out here and fight me you asshole.”

 

“Hmm, I don’t want to. It’s no fun fighting someone who doesn’t understand why they’re fighting.”

 

The assassin’s hair billowed unnaturally with aura as he finally remembered his En. “Bullshit. You always want to fight. That’s why you did all of this, isn’t it?”

 

Hisoka made no attempt to run as Illumi shot towards him like a bullet.

 

“Yes and no.” Hisoka replied, leisurely, “I hate to be cliché but the journey was more important than the destination. I did what I did because I like spending time with you.” The confession caught Illumi like a trip wire, giving Hisoka the split-second opening he was looking for. In the blink of an eye, the Illumi found his face slammed up hard against rough bark and his wrists pinned behind his back, immobilized by Hisoka’s superior physical strength. “Besides, you may have powered up recently but I’m still rather offended that you think you can take me in a fight while drunk off your ass.”

 

Enraged, Illumi struggled blindly against Hisoka’s Bungee Gummed grasp. “I’m not drunk.” He was tipsy. At best.

 

“You’re practically sweating moonshine. What did you even have to do to get this drunk? Drink a gallon of rubbing alcohol?” 

 

The disapproving slant of Hisoka’s voice had Illumi’s cheeks warm with shame at the thought of the two gallons of rubbing alcohol he’d downed half an hour prior, when the thought of seeing Hisoka had his stomach tumbling like stones. “It’s none of your business. And I’m not drunk. Just very angry. At you.”

 

“Well at least it’s getting you to acknowledge your feelings. That’s an accomplishment.”

 

Illumi wanted to bury himself. He must have made a pathetic sight: floundering like a fish out of water and arguing like a child. This was definitely not what he had in mind when he called Hisoka out here. He had been so sure that Hisoka would welcome an invitation to fight. The magician’s desire for battle was the only thing Illumi had thought was indubitable about the man, but apparently, he was wrong about even that.

 

To add to the chaos in his head, Hisoka’s hands were searing where they held his wrists and the inconvenient feelings from before were not going away.

 

Illumi stilled, almost sagging against the tree as he let the fight out of his limbs. “Let go of me.”

 

Hisoka hesitated, “No.”

 

“If I really wanted to break loose I could tear your arms off any time. But you don’t want to fight so I won’t start anything.” Wow, and wasn’t that the most obvious lie Illumi had ever told. To his disbelief, the hands around his wrists disappeared.

 

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Illumi let his nen explode outward without warning, whipping up a maelstrom of aura had Hisoka momentarily trapped. Wasting no time, Illumi tore a handful of needles from his jacket and let them fly before Hisoka was sufficiently out of range to dodge them all. There was a sharp hiss of pain as Hisoka leaned back to avoid the needle aimed at his temple only to be pierced deep in the shoulder instead.

 

With reflexive quickness, Hisoka tore the needle out, splattering the ground with spots of red as the wet warmth that bubbled up in the puncture wound before flowing down the

 

There were several things proven to trigger anger. Pain was number one on that list. Hisoka’s eyes flashed and the air turned to ice.

 

Suddenly, Illumi was the one who couldn’t move as a bloodlust he’d only ever glimpsed through the cracks of Hisoka’s psychology burst through in its full glory. And glorious it was, with the savagery of a blizzard, but a thousand times more malicious.

 

Illumi had experienced potent bloodlust before. His father, Kalluto’s Troupe, himself, all displayed their lust for death in battle, but it was nothing like this. There was nothing was like this.

 

Illumi had never felt anything as mad or sharp or _intoxicating._ With the quiet meditation of a single droplet falling into glassy water, the pieces clicked together Illumi _understood_.

 

It was like looking at the world with new eyes all over again. Hisoka’s motivations had been no secret at all. In fact, they’d been paraded in front his face like fifty-meter billboard. Illumi had simply been too blind to see it. Unlike himself, Hisoka had never had a family business to give him direction, never had a Killua of his own to ground him. Without a purpose to channel his boundless power into, Hisoka had suffered the cruelest irony. His interest in life waned even as deadly potential waxed without bound, leaving him a suicidal god in a world of life-hungry mortals. Half a lifetime ago, Hisoka had clawed his way to the top only to find that all that awaited him was an inescapable emptiness. Illumi had felt himself go half mad after mere weeks in that void. He couldn’t imagine wallowing in it alone for years.

 

The madness in Hisoka’s eyes gleamed sympathetic.

 

Hisoka wanted to kill Illumi, and the thought was a glimmer of excitement blossoming in the godforsaken void for the first time since Yorkshin. Standing amidst the vortex of Hisoka’s violence, Illumi felt alive.

 

“You get it now don’t you?” Hisoka’s words crackled like radio static as they were swept up by the storm of power raging around him. “I took everything from you to get you to this point. You’re free to try and kill me if you want.” His smile widened, “But I think you understand as well as I do that y _ou_ _need me now.”_

 

A nitroglycerine mix of too many emotions exploded into a mind-numbing inferno. What a time to have sabotaged his own inhibitions, Illumi thought as he was swallowed by the flames.

 

_Do you hate me?_

 

Hisoka had taken the world from Illumi and had become his world in its place.

 

_Do you hate me?_

 

Illumi’s hands curled into fists. In that case, he would just have to take everything from Hisoka.

 

The understanding was reached in silence. Illumi was ready when Hisoka materialized behind him. Even so, he almost didn’t catch the booted heel careening towards the side of his head until it was too late.

 

There was no finesse in attack or counterattack. Illumi’s hands clapped around Hisoka’s foot like a steel trap. In one fluid move, he ducked underneath the magician’s leg, spinning as he went so that he could use Hisoka’s own momentum to flip Hisoka off the ground. Not letting go, Illumi lunged forward, elbow poised to break the magician’s knee on its downward strike.

 

Quick as a cobra, Hisoka slammed his other foot into Illumi’s chest. The kick was not enough to shake Illumi off entirely but it pushed him backward just enough so that his blow slid across solid bone instead of crushing into soft cartilage. Colorful lights danced painfully across Hisoka’s vision as his shin fractured. He fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap and rolled away as fast as he could.  

 

Illumi retreated as well, watching Hisoka warily as they both took a moment to fix themselves. Illumi’s breaths were shallow and pained as he pushed his hands underneath his ribcage into his malformed chest, pulling the bones outward to pop his dislocated ribs back into place before they could puncture anything important.

 

Hisoka took the opportunity to mold an impromptu splint for his broken leg out of Bungee Gum. It would not do anything for the pain but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about the bone giving out from under him while he fought.

 

They were on each other again before in the blink of an eye.

 

The ground trembled as they let loose their impossible power upon each other. Confident that the other would not break, they fought without holding anything back. Century old trees snapped like match sticks behind backs and beneath fists. Geysers of earth sprayed up from the ground when kicks landed like comets, leaving deep craters in the ground. Points were tallied in torn flesh and broken bones. 

 

There was no talking, but there was communication nonetheless. A lifetime of bloodshed had left Hisoka and Illumi fluent in the language of violence where words were the wet smack of fists against flesh and meaning was conveyed by flashing eyes and mists of blood.

 

The questions were simple. As were the answers.

 

Spit sprayed, pinked by blood, as Illumi’s knee drove hard into Hisoka’s stomach.

 

_Why did you do this?_

Hisoka countered by knocking Illumi’s legs out from under him, grinding his head into the dirt.

 

_For fun._

Hisoka’s shirt shredded with his skin.

 

_Why me?_

Moonlight glinted silver against Hisoka’s fangs as he crashed his skull into Illumi’s.

 

_Because you’re ruthless._

Illumi tore a boulder from the mountainside and hurled it like a cannon ball.

 

Hisoka danced out of its way before catching it in a sling of nen and swinging it back, leaving a row of splintered tree trunks in its wake.

 

_Because there’s no need to hold back when I’m with you._

The rock exploded into a cloud of dust and debris against Illumi’s knuckles. Hisoka burst through the cloud of dust cover, grabbing Illumi by the neck and lifting him off the ground.

 

_Because I want you._

He shuddered as Illumi’s nen licked down his arm like black flame, searing his skin where it made contact. He had seen Illumi use this move a few times now, and knew how to counter it. Forcing himself into a state of Zetsu, Hisoka trapped his aura deep within himself, leaving Illumi with nothing to steal. Illumi’s limbs flopped like a rag doll’s as he was flung bodily across the clearing.

 

The brief seconds of unprotected contact with Illumi’s nen had done its damage though. Hisoka’s arm glistened darkly where his skin had corroded away, cells unable to withstand the acidic exposure. His shirt was beyond saving. The tatters of fabric tore readily away when Hisoka pulled at it, leaving his torso bare. He gave his wounds a cursory glance before sheathing his entire arm in Bungee Gum to staunch the bleeding. A layer of Texture Surprise took his mind off of it entirely.

 

He sauntered, unhurried, over to where Illumi struggled, suspended two feet off the ground, a large and angry insect caught in an invisible web. The web was expansive, spanning the entire left side of the field. Hisoka had been careful to camouflage it under a calculated layer of Texture Surprise so that Illumi would not noticed its creation during their high speed, fatal dance.

 

It was very symbolic, Illumi thought as he waited for his own nen to spread through the web and unstick him. Hisoka was a spider through and through and Illumi was always getting caught in one of his webs in one way or another. The game they were playing now was no different.

 

Hisoka wore the proprietary smirk of an art smuggler faced with a particularly priceless piece of art as he looked Illumi up and down. His touch was light, but deliberate, as he slid a hand slowly over Illumi’s knee, and then up and up until his thumb brushed against the bulge of Illumi’s undeniable interest.  

 

The betrayal of his body, Illumi felt, was the last in a long line of betrayals. And in a way, that was a relief. There was officially nothing left for him to lose.

 

The desire to kill mingled with straight up desire as Illumi met Hisoka’s smug yellow gaze before allowing his eyes to flick down over the naked and bloodstained expanse of Hisoka’s torso.

 

“I’m not sorry I changed your life Illu. You were always much more suited to being a leader than being a follower. You’ll thank me for it one day.”

 

The Gum behind Illumi’s back released its sticky hold and Hisoka was choking. Illumi’s chest crushed against Hisoka’s back as he pulled the cord of black Gum tighter across Hisoka’s neck, willing it to extend over Hisoka’s nose and mouth as well to block off even the tiniest sliver of air. “I’ll be sure to leave a thank you note on your grave.” 

 

Colored lights danced in Hisoka’s vision as his lungs strove and failed to draw in oxygen his brain desperately needed. He wasn’t worried though, despite the direness of the situation. It was a shame that Illumi wasn’t at his best. Had Illumi been in his right mind, he would have realized that using Bungee Gum like a physical rope was a waste of its potential. Hisoka crooked his fingers, beckoning.

 

With Illumi’s attention focused elsewhere and his hands occupied, there was little the assassin could do stop the arrow-like shards of rock reeling towards his back on surreptitious strings of Gum. He tasted blood as the shards speared deep into the soft flesh between his ribs. The stones were not large enough to pierce through the hardened layers of muscle on his back but they still hurt like a _bitch_. Illumi’s control over the stolen Gum: a mistake.

 

In a flash, the assassin found himself on his back, hands pinned above his head and hips straddled by Hisoka’s bulk.

 

Illumi canted his pelvis sharply upwards, attempting to buck Hisoka off. He sucked in a sharp, chastened breath when, instead of budging the magician, the movement caused an unexpected surge of pleasure to shoot up his spine. A quick glance revealed that Hisoka had secured his position by gluing his knees to the ground. Any movement of Illumi’s hips would only serve to grind his groin straight into the Hisoka’s ass.

 

Mortified, Illumi refocused his strength into his arms, trying to pull out of Hisoka’s hold without moving his lower body at all.

 

Muscles bulged and veins popped as the two men pitted their full strength against each other, pushing with all their might just to stay still.

 

Hisoka’s yellow eyes crinkled with amusement and strain as he wrestled to stay on top. Illumi was slimmer than him, but holding him down was no easy feat. Especially since the assassin was struggling with his pride on the line.

 

The deep gashes Illumi left across his front complained mightily as Hisoka strained his torn muscles. Had the contest of strength continued fairly, Hisoka was not sure who would emerge the victor.

 

But it was not in his nature to be fair.

 

Redoubling his hold, Hisoka leaned forward and rocked his hips back against the hardness beneath him. Painted lips stretched into a smile that was all teeth as Hisoka watched Illumi’s eyes widen and his resistance falter ever so slightly. Caught between indignance and pleasure, Illumi’s pale cheeks flushed red-hot even as his eyes flashed cold murder.

 

It was a good look on him, Hisoka decided. One that he wanted to see more of.

 

Taking his time, Hisoka rolled his hips again, setting a torturous pace as he alternated between pressing back onto Illumi’s arousal and grinding his own erection forward into Illumi’s hard stomach. With each deliberate undulation, he could feel the strength sapping from Illumi’s arms, until the assassin lay complacent in his hold, unable to do anything but grit his teeth against Hisoka’s slow assault.

 

Fire ripped through Illumi’s belly with each slow drag of friction, but he staunchly refused to make a sound. His head tossed about, eyes darting as he searched desperately for a distraction. It was only a matter of time before his body gave into its own biology. Pleasure was mingling with the adrenaline from his many wounds, creating a heady cocktail of endorphins he would have been hard pressed to resist even had he not been inebriated. With Hisoka’s every move, Illumi could feel his self-control splintering: a flimsy clapboard door trying to hold back a hurricane.

 

A quiet whine slipped through the cracks of his control as a particularly rough press of Hisoka’s hips had Illumi’s cock straining painfully against the front of his pants. The sight of Hisoka’s self-satisfied smirk had him choking back the rest of the embarrassing noises as he blinked away the stars in his vision.

 

Dimly, Illumi wondered if it were possible to die simply by willing it hard enough.

 

All coherent thought abruptly leaked from his mind, when he saw Hisoka loom closer still, eyes heavy with intent. The night air was chilly but Illumi was dizzy with heat, Hisoka’s body like a furnace where it hung, poised above him. His heart raced as the space between them shrunk to mere centimeters.

 

Hisoka paused when he was close enough for their breaths to mingle. He waited, smiling easily, while Illumi’s heart threatened to work itself into cardiac arrest. Illumi closed his eyes. It was all too much: the pain like knives in his back, the heat radiating in waves off Hisoka’s skin, the press of Hisoka’s ass against his cock.

 

It was too much and somehow still not enough.

 

Pride proved a stronger sin than lust, in the end, and Illumi snapped his head to the side just as Hisoka descended, so that the magician’s lips missed their mark and landed on his cheek instead. It was a small, futile victory, but Illumi still savored the modicum of control he retained. Against his cheek, he could feel the amused curve of Hisoka’s mouth as the magician mouthed, undeterred, at his skin, tongue flicking out to lap at a bead of sweat. Illumi’s tiny moment of triumph shattered into dust as Hisoka then sucked his earlobe into his mouth and Illumi felt something inside him positively _keen._  

 

It took the last of his discipline to force coherent words out of his mouth.

 

“Why can’t you just _die?_ ” Illumi panted, hating the shakiness of his voice.

 

Hisoka drew back, prompting Illumi to open his eyes again.

 

That was a mistake, Illumi realize, too late, as his eyes were immediately drawn towards Hisoka’s mouth, glistening and swollen and red with blood. He barely heard Hisoka’s answer.

 

“Because you don’t want me to.”

 

And then they were kissing.

 

Teeth clacked and lips bruised as Illumi surged forward in his hunger, desire exploding out from the confines of his self-control like too much steam pent up in a rusted boiler. Pulling free, he tangled a hand into the fuchsia mess atop Hisoka’s head, trapping the magician into the kiss as he pushed both up.

 

Seated between Hisoka’s legs while the magician was upright on his knees was less comfortable but Illumi didn’t care.

 

Hisoka was here and Hisoka was _his._ Every oozing wound splitting the smooth skin was a mark of his claim on the Hisoka’s body. Every eventual scar would serve to remind Hisoka to whom he belonged. Roaming roughly across the broad expanses of Hisoka’s shoulders, Illumi bit the down on Hisoka’s plush bottom lip as he pressed the tip of his thumb into the puncture wound he’d dealt earlier.

 

He smirked as Hisoka jerked back, hissing in pain.

 

Hisoka was not gentle as he grabbed a fistful of dark hair in retaliation and Illumi was not defiant as a cruel yank had his head snapping backward, baring his neck. With the flat of his tongue, Hisoka licked a wet stripe up Illumi’s throat, tasting sweat and blood, before sinking his teeth punishingly into the sensitive junction beneath Illumi’s jaw.

 

Illumi’s growl of protest turned into a gasp as Hisoka punctuated the bite with a hard roll of his hips. In their new position, their erections were able to press directly into each other, and the spike of pleasure left Illumi gulping for air like a drowning man. 

 

Needy for more, Illumi ran both his hands down the sides of Hisoka’s torso, relishing in the sculpted cords of muscle before gripping the tight globes of Hisoka’s ass to drag their clothed cocks together once again. The deep sweet sound Hisoka moaned into his neck made Illumi near blind with lust.

 

Eyes closed, Illumi had only the sound of ripping fabric and the sudden touch of cold air to tell him that his shirt was gone.

 

A hand burned up his side and Illumi cried out as it found its way between them and pinched hard at his peaked nipples, adding yet another layer of sensation to the already overwhelming mix. The new pleasure had him opening his eyes again, desperately searching for Hisoka’s mouth.

 

This kiss was slower but no less indecent. Hisoka took the lead, threading a hand through the roots of Illumi’s hair to hold the assassin still as their tongues worked lazily against each other. 

 

The taste of Hisoka’s blood reminded Illumi of the lead he had been forced to ingest during his training. He couldn’t think of a taste more fitting. Hisoka had a lot in common with the sweet, poisonous metal. Both were deadly, yet attractive enough that people continued to consume them despite the obvious danger. Both were capable of driving people crazy before destroying them from the inside out.

 

Illumi’s pulse quickened as he was suddenly overcome with the desire to find out what else of Hisoka’s might taste sweet. 

 

Hisoka moaned approvingly into the kiss when he felt Illumi’s hand palm hungrily at the hard bulge in his pants. He smiled, amused, when Illumi broke away a moment later to grab impatiently at the waistband of his pants, ripping the white cloth in his hurry to yank it down.

 

A hand tapped the back of Hisoka’s thigh. Hisoka stood, spreading his feet a little wider apart so that Illumi could reposition himself. Seated on his heels, Illumi found his mouth watering at the weight of Hisoka’s engorged cock in his hand.

 

“You don’t have to do this you know.” Hisoka said even as his cock went marble hard from the attention.

 

The wicked smile on Illumi’s lips proved his statement unnecessary. “I’m not doing this for you.”

 

Before Hisoka could say anymore, Illumi squeezed Hisoka’s fractured shin and sucked his cock into his mouth in a synchronized assault that knocked the breath out of the magician. Pain and pleasure crystalized like ice, freezing his lungs until Hisoka’s head spun from lack of oxygen. Illumi’s words were made of steel and ice and nothing nice but his mouth was anything but.

 

Whether it was a trait purposefully trained for or the result of an abnormally high tolerance for pain, Illumi had no gag reflex. The pliancy of his throat around Hisoka’s cock had the magician seriously considering whether cocksucking was a skill practiced in the Zoldyck arsenal or whether Illumi was just unfairly talented in that regard as he was in all others. The thought promptly fell out of his mind when Illumi’s tongue dove into the slit of his cock and Hisoka decided he didn’t care.

 

A particularly hard suck had Hisoka biting his lip and bucking his hips forward into the wet heat. Where a normal person would have choked, Illumi didn’t seem to particularly mind. Surprised, Hisoka thrust forward again, fucking into Illumi’s mouth even as the assassin pressed forward to meet him, the clench and release of his throat in perfect tandem with Hisoka’s rhythm. Warmth pooled alarmingly quickly low in Hisoka’s belly as Illumi swallowed him again and again.

 

The only distraction Hisoka had from the all-consuming pleasure was the tickle of Illumi’s long hair against his legs as the assassin bobbed back and forth with no sign of fatigue.

 

God, he’d never had sex like this before.

 

Hisoka snarled animalistic as Illumi pulled off his cock entirely just as he neared the event-horizon of his orgasm. His irritation evaporated though when he met Illumi’s eyes, dark like black holes and blown wide with lust.

 

“I’ve changed my mind.” Illumi said, “I want you to fuck me.”

 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before Illumi found himself pushed back onto the ground. He winced, reminding Hisoka of the stones still embedded in his back and Hisoka flipped him onto his stomach instead.

 

He didn’t bother to pull Illumi’s pants off his legs, opting to just shove them down to his knees along with his underwear. Illumi cooperated by crawling forward onto his knees, spreading his thighs apart in a presentation that made Hisoka’s mouth run dry.

 

The smell of torn earth and sex filled Illumi’s nose as one of Hisoka’s large hands grabbed him around the base of his thigh, thumbing his ass cheek apart. Breathing deep, Illumi prepared himself for a dry intrusion (neither of them had brought anything suitable for lubrication after all). He almost flinched in surprise when Hisoka finger glided in slick and easy instead. Glancing back, he almost laughed upon seeing the layer of bright pink nen coating Hisoka’s hand.

 

His mirth died quickly, however, as Hisoka crooked his finger, rubbing relentlessly against Illumi’s prostate until the assassin was panting, fingers digging into the loamy soil. The rest of the preparation was mercifully quick, neither of them having the patience to do more than the bare minimum.

 

Illumi was trembling with need by the time he felt Hisoka’s cock nudge against his backside. With a quiet _oh,_ he let his head fall forward into his arms as Hisoka finally pushed into him.

 

Hisoka was hot and hard and impossibly large as he pressed forward, the inadequate preparation doing little to ease the tightness of Illumi’s body. Breathe falling out of him in hot puffs, Illumi had only the burning press of Hisoka’s skin against the back of his ass to tell him that Hisoka was all the way in.

 

Like everything else that night, the feeling of being filled by Hisoka was too much, and suddenly, Illumi wasn’t sure if he was going to be alright.

 

In the brief absence of movement, a tide of emotion was rising up again, welling up in his lungs like water. Illumi’s back heaved with labored breathes as he struggled to contain the riptide of conflict that threatened to tear him apart. The familiar longing was there, except now it was couched in both loss and lust in a way that left Illumi feeling raw and broken. Intimacy only sprinkled into the mess like shards of glass, cutting him in new ways he didn’t know were possible.      

 

_Do you hate me?_

Hisoka had taken Killua from him. Killua was his _everything._ So why was he fucking Hisoka instead of killing him?

Oblivious to Illumi’s inner turmoil—or perhaps all too aware—Hisoka Hisoka brushed aside Illumi’s hair, matted to his back with blood and sweat, in an uncharacteristically tender act before leaning back over to press a kiss to the soft curve where Illumi’s neck met his shoulder. The hand not holding Illumi’s waist slid under the assassin’s cheek, finding his shaking hand and twining their fingers together.

 

With nothing else to hold onto, Illumi clung to Hisoka for dear life when Hisoka finally started moving, pulling almost all the way out before snapping back in in hard fucks that had Illumi’s knees scraping across the rough ground. The blunt thrust of Hisoka’s cock against his sweet spot tore sounds from Illumi’s throat that left his vocal chords aching. Illumi wasn’t sure he’d ever screamed so hard, not even back before he was immune to the pain of his mother’s whip.

 

The pleasure Hisoka gave was like opium, dulling the pain of the wounds that Hisoka himself inflicted and Illumi didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to break the cycle of addiction and resentment that Hisoka had him trapped in.

 

The only thing Illumi knew for certain was that the possessive hold Hisoka had on his waist made the emptiness inside of him a little less suffocating and that was enough to keep Illumi coming back for more. Hisoka had carved a hole in him that could only be filled with his company—and it would seem, with his cock. That Illumi resented this fact did not make it any less true.

 

Hisoka’s rhythm grew increasingly unsteady as both men neared their breaking point. Having long ago been reduced to an incoherent mess, Illumi could feel himself shuddering apart with every thrust. Hisoka was not much better off, panting open-mouthed against Illumi’s neck as he approached orgasm for the second time that night.

 

Illumi’s chest still felt tight but his mental misgivings could only hold off his carnal response for so long. Precum glistened, slick and hot on his skin where the head of his cock bumped against his stomach. He sighed in relief when Hisoka finally leaned forward to take a hold of his neglected cock. The extra friction sent black spots dancing across Illumi’s vision but it was the gentleness with which Hisoka kissed his temple and squeezed their entwined hands that had him finally spilling over. Hisoka stilled a moment later, breath hitching as he too fell over the edge of release.

 

 

* * *

 

Hisoka was lying on his side, just out of arms reach, watching Illumi when he finally came to. The night was still dark and quiet and cold. Without the warmth of fighting or sex to shield him from the autumn chill, Illumi couldn’t help but shiver a little.

 

“Cold?” Hisoka’s eyes gleamed like drops of polished amber.

 

“Yeah.”  


“Do you want to go back inside?”

 

Illumi shook his head. His ribs and back and ass hurt too much to move. “No.”

 

Hisoka snorted and raised an arm in invitation. “Do you still want to kill me?”

 

Illumi eyed the gesture with suspicion. Hisoka’s body _was_ unnaturally warm and there was no reason to be embarrassed about the contact after what they’d just finished doing, but going over still felt like surrender somehow. But the cold was starting to settle into his bones and he hated ache that came with it.

 

“Only a little.”

 

Hisoka was blessedly silent as Illumi crawled into his embrace, pointedly ignoring the smug little smile that tugged at the magician’s lips in lieu of a witty remark.

 

“I’m sorry I destroyed your trees and your mountain.” Hisoka said after minutes of contemplative silence.

 

“Only the trees and the mountain?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Illumi closed his eyes and sagged against Hisoka’s chest. There was provocation in that answer but he was far too tired to bite. The events of the night had proven that fighting Hisoka would not ease his resentment.

 

Nor would it bring Killua back.

 

“I’ll buy you dinner to make it up to you?” Hisoka ventured after several minutes passed without any response from Illumi. The way he spoke gave the question, hesitant, added a deeper layer of meaning to the innocuous proposal.

 

For several long seconds, it was unclear to Hisoka whether Illumi had heard him at all.

 

Illumi was quiet as his thoughts once again returned to a different question. _Do you hate me?_ His feelings for Hisoka were complicated and contradictory and not all positive but the fact that he was laying naked in Hisoka’s arms made it pretty obvious that what he felt, whatever it may be, wasn’t hatred. “Where?”

 

“Anywhere you want.”

 

Illumi couldn’t help the strange nose that choked up in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. The last time he’d agreed to such a thing, he had given Hisoka free reign to tear his life apart.

 

That being said, if Hisoka was serious about sticking around, then he had little left to lose.

 

“Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long but so much life has happened since my last update. I think there will be one more chapter but it might take me a while since I don't have a good idea of what's going to be in it yet. I really appreciate all the support and lovely comments this fic has received and I wouldn't have stuck it out for this long without all you lovely people. Thanks!


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